


And Builds a Heaven in Hell's Despair

by catboysam, EmeraldTrash666



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Consensual Blood Drinking, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, death imagery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 80,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboysam/pseuds/catboysam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldTrash666/pseuds/EmeraldTrash666
Summary: A family can be a depressed orphan, his best friend, his brainwashed brother imprisoned in evil armor, his mom's hot demon clone, and the child they accidentally adopted against their will.An AU where Dante recognizes Nelo Angelo as Vergil earlier and decides to get them both the hell off of Mallet Island to fix his brother. Somehow.
Relationships: Dante & Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 71
Kudos: 311





	1. Realization

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written collaboratively by two authors.
> 
> _From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):_
> 
> So this is based off a dream I had while about halfway through my first playthrough of DMC3. Writing it has been really fun! I will take hammer and FIX the canon...
> 
> _From Rachel (catboysam):_
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! The alternate title to this is Devil Will Absolutely Cry

Why did that strange knight suddenly start acting weird when it saw his amulet? Dante knew it was magical, but without its other half, it was just a necklace. It shouldn’t have caused any kind of reactions like that on its own.

Really, Dante shouldn’t have been thinking about it that much. So what if his amulet scared the shit out of the demon knight dude? Dante should have simply thanked his mother for the lucky save, shrugged it off and continued on his merry way through the Island of Misfit Interior Decoration. And yet… Somehow, he couldn’t get the incident off his mind. And the more he thought about it- The more he thought about that strange knight- the more he got an uncomfortable sinking feeling in his gut. Dante did not like where this train of thought was going. Thinking sucked and never got him anywhere fun. He should stop doing it.

Despite what Lady might say, Dante was not very good at not thinking.

Even as Dante continued through the castle, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the incident. His body was fighting, running on muscle memory from years of demon-hunting, but his mind was elsewhere, each gunshot punctuated with a _ “Why did that guy seem so familiar?”, _ each swing of his sword echoing a _ “Where have I seen that fighting style before?” _

Much to his disdain, his brain began to form a theory- A theory that he desperately hoped was nothing more than overthinking. But deep down, he knew.

Of  _ course  _ he knew. He could feel it.

Somehow, that black-clad knight… was Vergil.

Even just thinking that name caused his heart and the old scar on his left hand to ache. Naturally, the memory of his brother had weighed heavily on Dante’s mind since coming to Mallet Island- After all, it was Mundus’ attack on their house that had started Vergil down the path that would lead to his downfall. By destroying Mundus, Dante thought, he could in some way avenge Vergil. But that was just it: He’d expected to  _ avenge  _ him, not fight him. A part of him had truly thought Vergil had died falling off of that cliff into hell. How could anyone, even someone like him or his brother, survive a fall like that with the wounds Vergil had sustained? But apparently he had, only to drop right into the clutches of the demon emperor himself. 

For a dark moment, Dante wondered if Vergil would have been better off dead, but he quickly threw that thought in the trash. No. Vergil being alive, even if it was like this, was the best possible situation Dante could ask for. It meant that there was still something resembling hope for the two of them. “Alive”, though, was about the best he could say for Vergil- He was still under the control of their father’s greatest enemy, twisted into some mindless fighting machine. 

Not for much longer. Not if Dante could help it. He’d left Vergil behind before, and like hell was he about to do it again. 

* * *

Thankfully he didn’t have to go looking for the knight himself, as after using the Sign of Chastity (a brain, really?) to grab the chalice he needed, Vergil showed up on his own to fight him, perched all dramatic-like on an overhanging part of the wall. 

As he drew Alastor and the two began the battle, Dante paid closer attention to how this familiar-unfamiliar version of his twin fought. No cheap moves or dirty tricks, just straight-forward attempts to kick Dante’s ass. Yeah, that was just like Vergil alright.

Carefully concentrating his strength, Dante prepared a blow meant to concuss, not kill. This had to be Vergil, so that meant the big guy would be fine after his healing kicked in, right? At least, that was what he hoped as he watched his opponent fall, hitting the ground with the heavy  _ clunk  _ of armor.

Biting his lip and crossing his fingers that he was doing the right thing, Dante slung the (fucking enormous, what the hell had Mundus done to him?) unconscious Vergil over his shoulder and headed out.

* * *

After managing to avoid Mundus’ minions, a long trip, and somehow figuring out how to single-handedly sail a ghost ship, Dante carried his still pretty unconscious brother back to his home. He was disappointed to see that the wall had not, in fact, somehow magically repaired itself while he’d been gone, as he’d been lowkey hoping it somehow would- But whatever. He had more important things to worry about right now, like lugging Vergil up the stairs. After doing so with no small amount of effort and a few curses, Dante laid his brother out on his bed and sighed in relief. They had made it. He had brought him home.

...Now what?

Dante sat down on the bed next to Vergil, staring at his face. Was that his face? It matched the rest of his armor, so maybe- aha! Dante carefully ran his hands under Vergil’s chin, looking for a seam, and hooked his fingers on the bottom of what had to be a full-face great helm. Gently, carefully, Dante pulled it off of Vergil’s head and set it on the floor, only to freeze up in horror as he looked upon his brother’s face for the first time in nine years. 

Vergil’s skin was a stark grey-white, almost matching his hair, with enlarged blue veins pulsing visibly through the translucence. His face was gaunt and tense, brow furrowed and mouth pulled into a tight frown as if he didn’t know how to make any other expression. He looked- Well, Dante didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to even  _ think _ it, but- There was no denying that Vergil looked eerily like a corpse. Only his barely-visible breathing and the unsettling pulsating of those blue veins indicated that he wasn’t one.

Dante found himself falling back against the wall, feeling sick to his stomach. What the fuck had happened? What had been done to his brother? Had Mundus killed him and then reanimated him? Was he still alive, but corrupted into a husk of a man bound to the demon emperor? Vergil was too proud, too aware of their father’s legacy to ever choose to serve Mundus. So that could only mean that Mundus had broken him until he didn’t  _ have  _ a choice. And Dante was afraid to know what had been done to Vergil to break him.

God, if only Vergil hadn’t fallen into Hell alone. If only he wasn’t such a stubborn bastard and had just let Dante grab his hand… 

Too many “if only”s. If only Dante had reached his brother. If only Vergil had listened to him. If only they had been together all these years instead of cruelly separated. If only the attack on their home had never happened…

But “if only” wasn’t real. What was real was his twin, lying there, having surely been through things Dante could only unwillingly imagine. 

Dante’s throat tightened with grief, and hot tears stung his eyes. He clumsily stood, using the wall for support, and stumbled back over to the bed, a rasping sob punching out of him as he landed hard on the mattress and crawled up to lean over Vergil, who continued to lay there, almost still as death. With shaking hands, Dante held his brother’s face and leaned down to press their foreheads together, his body slumping as he cried.

Dante’s tears dripped onto Vergil’s too-pale cheeks, but he did not yet stir.

Not for the first time, Dante wished he had jumped down after him.

“I’m sorry,” Dante whispered. “Fuck, I…”

It felt like there was too much he wanted to say, all at once: That he should have followed him, that he should have pulled him back up, that he should have been there for Vergil more, that he should have gone back for him at the house and ignored their mother’s plea to forget his old life, that he wished things hadn’t turned out this way, that he hoped Vergil would forgive him someday. Yet all that came out was trembling, choked sobs.

He felt so… Overwhelmed. When he’d first realized that Vergil was alive, he’d been so relieved, hoping that this was finally their chance to fix things- But now, seeing how bad things really were, Dante felt almost worse than he had before. How were they supposed to recover from this? Where would they even  _ begin?  _ Was there even any chance at recovery for Vergil at all?

Dante’s body felt physically heavy with despair, and he stayed where he was; Part of him knew that this wasn’t going to be good when Vergil woke up, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He clung tightly to Vergil, wishing he could will away the cold, rough armor. 

Maybe he was still in shock, because even though he knew the reality of the situation, part of him still seemed to think that maybe if he simply went to sleep, he’d wake up and none of this nightmare would have happened. That he’d somehow wake up in his childhood bed, and stumble into the kitchen, where his mother would tease him for sleeping late, and an already-awake Vergil would giggle as he told their father about whatever incoherent ramblings Dante had muttered in his sleep that morning.

But those days were long gone. The happy family that lived in Dante’s earliest memories had been dead for a long, long time, and they were never coming back. His parents were gone, his brother- God only knew if there was any hope for Vergil. Or, really, if he was even still Vergil at all; For all Dante knew, his reaction to the amulet had been a fluke, and the white-haired demon he’d dragged home was nothing more than a mindless servant of Mundus with Vergil’s face. Maybe Vergil, the real Vergil, truly had died that day nine years ago.

Dante bit his lip, closed his eyes, and mourned for his brother.

* * *

Nelo Angelo came awake.

It was unusual for him to awaken naturally, as opposed to upon his master’s summons. Even more unusual was the unfamiliar surroundings he found himself in. This was certainly not Emperor Mundus’ throne room, nor any place on the island. 

He sat up to take a better look around and accidentally dislodged a figure that had been curled up next to him. Nelo Angelo looked down and was perplexed to see the man in red, whom his master had bade him to destroy. The same one with the amulet so similar to his own…

Where was he? Why was this man, his enemy, sleeping near him as if he was not threatened by him? How arrogant. He’d have to teach the man a lesson; Normally, Nelo Angelo disliked taking his opponents by surprise, but if that was how he wanted to play it? Fine. He’d teach him what happens when one lets their guard down around him.

Still, simply killing his opponent in his sleep would have been boring. No, he was  _ going  _ to make the man in red show him a proper fight; He’d just have to give him a nice little wake-up call first.

Grabbing the man by his shirt collar, Nelo Angelo rolled off the bed, taking his opponent with him and slamming him into the ground. No sooner had the man opened his eyes than Nelo Angelo stood up again, reaching for his sword.

“What the-  _ Shit!” _ Nelo Angelo heard his opponent gasp, and he chuckled as he raised his sword. Good. Fitting last words for scum like him. He swung his sword high above his head, and-

Instead of the feeling of sword slicing through flesh, Nelo Angelo felt something catch his blade. Instinctively, he flinched as he realized what he’d done; The chain that held the mysterious amulet had been sliced clean in two.

The man in red stared at Nelo Angelo with wide eyes for a moment, and then glanced down at his chest.

“...Well ain’t that just poetic,” he muttered with a half-hearted laugh that sounded rather empty.

Even as his opponent stood up, Nelo Angelo couldn’t seem to bring himself to continue the fight. He felt… Strange, a similar feeling to how he felt when his master Mundus was displeased with him, yet… Deeper, somehow. Why? Why did this strange pendant feel so sacred to him? Why did breaking it- Even knowing that it was a mere trinket of a human he’d been ordered to kill- Make him feel such immense guilt?

“Geez… That’s the second time this thing’s gotten broken ‘cause of you, ya know,” the man seemed to ramble aimlessly as he searched through a drawer for something, ignoring Nelo Angelo. “Took me ages to fix it last time… I wound up giving in and taking it to a jewelry repair place eventually, damn thing wouldn’t stay together no matter what I did at home, but fixing it wasn’t cheap.” He sighed, and continued to rummage through the drawer. “Shit, where did I put it… Ah- No, wait… Ah, here we go.”

Nelo Angelo watched- for lack of knowing what else to do- as the man hooked some sort of pin through the broken ends of the chain, and replaced it around his neck. The sight of the poor mending job and the exasperated look on his opponent’s face drew an image to his mind, one of the same man but younger and angrier. His head started to pound. Why did being around this man, seeing his face and his amulet, cause him so much turmoil?

* * *

Vergil had stopped attacking and was clutching his skull groaning in pain, his glowing red eyes shut tight. His body- the armor?- crackled with blue electricity, like it had back on the island before he suddenly teleported away after their first fight. Dante hesitated, unsure of what to do. His hands automatically reached toward Vergil, but stopped just as quickly. He sincerely doubted this was a trick to get him to let his guard down since he looked to be in agony, but he knew better than to underestimate his brother, brainwashed or not. He could snap out of it at any moment and start swinging that huge sword of his again. (In hindsight, maybe Dante should have left that behind- But he was nothing if not a sucker for cool weapons. What was he supposed to do, look at this massive, freaky-looking sword and just  _ not _ take it home with him? Impossible.)

Speaking of the massive sword… it had been dropped on the floor when Vergil started grabbing at his head. As much as he wanted to help at the moment, Dante decided that getting rid of his weapon was the better first choice. Carefully, as not to startle Vergil into attacking again, he picked up the sword from the ground and leaned it against the wall in the far corner of the room. 

He turned back around to see Vergil slowly recovering from whatever his headache was, the electricity dying down. For a moment, Vergil’s face showed an expression of confusion that mirrored Dante’s own. Feeling slightly more secure with the sword out of the way, Dante took a step towards him, his hands held out non-threateningly. 

“Vergil?” he called, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you recognize me?”

Vergil narrowed his eyes at Dante- Yet, Dante noticed with a sinking feeling, there was no recognition in his gaze. He watched as Vergil scanned the room, and quickly made a lunge for his sword. Dante jumped just in time to avoid a wide swipe of the sword, its blade glowing blue with Vergi’s magic.

“Woah, hey,” Dante exclaimed, putting his hands up in surrender. “C’mon, man. I’m not gonna fight you.”

Vergil scoffed, and nodded towards the window. Dante’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized that Vergil was, in fact, attempting to  _ open _ said window.

“Woah, woah, woah! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You can’t go out there!” Dante insisted, grabbing Vergil’s hand as he fiddled with the latch.

Vergil pulled his hand away abruptly, but didn’t bother any further with the window; Dante let out a sigh of relief, relaxing for a moment, until he realized that Vergil was now walking calmly towards the bedroom door. Goddamn it.

_ “No,”  _ Dante told him firmly, teleporting just ahead of Vergil and stretching his arms out to block the door. “Look, I know my room’s kind of a wreck, but downstairs? Downstairs is even  _ worse. _ There’s a big fuckin’ hole in the wall, and if all the nice normal randos who walk down the street see your Frankenstein ass hanging around it’s not going to end well. Just… Stay here, alright?” he pleaded, shaking his head in exasperation.

Vergil stared at Dante for a moment, frowning as if thinking over Dante’s words. After a few seconds, he shrugged, and once again raised his sword.

“Fuck’s sake!” Dante exclaimed as he rolled out of the way (And directly into the dresser- His room really had not been built with greatswords in mind).

Vergil chuckled, and picked up Alastor, tossing it towards Dante- Not as an attack, but seemingly for him to catch. As Dante reflexively caught the sword, Vergil beckoned for him to attack, once again taking a fighting stance and meeting Dante’s gaze with a smirk.

Dante shook his head. “I told you already, I’m not going to fight you.”

Vergil gave Dante a look of irritation. Dante heard a distorted-yet-obnoxiously-familiar growl of disgust- And suddenly, Vergil’s sword was inches away from his face.

From there, much to Dante’s frustration, things turned into an all-out brawl. He had no choice but to continue dodging as much as he could; The lack of space, however, made things difficult. Dante found himself taking a few hits, yet he still fared far better than his poor furniture, most of which was… Now in two or three pieces. As Dante side-rolled away from yet another powerful slash, he caught a glimpse of Force Edge peeking out from a pile of rubble that had once been the dresser. 

_ “You’re  _ the reason I can’t have nice things, pops,” he grumbled at his father’s sword. “Every time I scrounge up a little bit of cash to buy some piece of shit old furniture from the thrift store-”

He paused to roll out of the way of a ball of magic energy, which left a nice round scorch mark on the wall behind him-

“Some asshole with a grudge against you comes along and smashes it,” he finished, giving Vergil a pointed look. 

Vergil paused for a moment, rolling his shoulder casually (Like he always did, Dante thought to himself, god he’d fought Vergil so many times and he  _ always _ did that), leaving a stupidly obvious opening as if to bait Dante into attacking. He even gestured for Dante to come at him.

Dante glared at Vergil, but made no move to take the bait. Instead, he took the opportunity to brush himself off. He also adjusted his amulet, reaching behind him to pull it back from where it’d somehow twisted around during the fight; Normally he kept it tucked into his shirt, you know, so it  _ wouldn’t _ bounce all over the place and smack him in the face and wind up backwards, but the front of his shirt had been sliced up into the world’s shittiest V-neck. Yet another possession his dear twin had so thoughtfully completely ruined. 

But hey, he thought to himself as he untwisted the amulet’s chain, at least the building was still standing this time. Unlike the last time him and Vergil had gotten into a little spat. Hooray for progress. 

Dante looked back up, waiting for Vergil to get impatient and come at him again, only to see him staring at the amulet once more, his face contorting in pain and… despair?

So Vergil didn’t seem to recognize him, but his amulet sure rang some bells. Figured. Just like old times. Dante opened his mouth to voice his annoyance when his brother suddenly lurched forward, free hand reaching out to take hold of the amulet. Dante jerked back in surprise as Vergil clumsily yanked on the chain to get a better grip, and the chain snapped once more as Dante fell onto the floor, eyes wide.

The two of them froze in silence for several moments, the scene all too familiar to Dante. Even more familiar was Vergil beginning to raise his enormous sword, his stolen amulet in the other hand as he impaled him-

But then the sword fell with a loud clang as Vergil dropped it, gaze switching between Dante and the amulet, recognition finally dawning in his eyes before he dropped the amulet as well and clutched his head, distorted voice shouting in pain. The blue electricity returned, shocking his huge frame as he collapsed on the floor, and after a few moments of twitching, he lay still once more.

Dante scrambled up to his knees and crawled over to him, sighing in relief as he registered that Vergil was still breathing. Not dead. Just knocked out again.

“Guess you’re in there after all, huh bro?” he muttered, taking back his amulet and leaning back against what was left of the bed frame. He was fuckin’ tired. That nap hadn’t really been enough to recover from all the crying and the long journey home beforehand, and he probably smelled like demon blood and guts. It was shower time, and then maybe Vergil would still be out long enough for him to get some real rest.

* * *

The mattress was almost sliced in half, but Dante managed to get comfortable enough to sleep a few more hours before the sound of Vergil shifting around on the floor woke him. Dante immediately leapt to his feet, tensing in anticipation of another fight- But after a few seconds, it became clear that Vergil was still unconscious. Dante sighed, and sat back down on the broken mattress.

“Geez… You almost gave me a heart attack there,” he muttered to the unconscious Vergil. “Let me guess… As soon as you wake up, it’s back to the old grind, right? Your favorite hobby, trying to kill me while I’m minding my own business.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he glanced around the room, taking in the damage. (And  _ boy, _ was there damage.) As he idly tossed away a broken piece of… Something (Dresser? Nightstand? He honestly couldn’t tell), a glint of steel caught his eye; The sight of his father’s sword brought to mind a number of memories, most of which were not particularly pleasant.

Dante paused for a moment. Would Vergil recognize Force Edge, he wondered? If he recognized the amulet, then maybe... 

...Actually, Dante realized, that was probably not a road they wanted to go down just yet. Biting his lip, he picked up Force Edge with a tired hand, looking for a suitable spot to hide it; The last thing he needed to deal with right now was an extra power-hungry Vergil. Better that Mundus’ orders remained Vergil’s only motivation for going after Dante.

Grabbing a large piece of his ripped up sheets, he wrapped Force Edge up well enough that the cloth wouldn’t easily fall off and glanced around the room. Everything in the bedroom was too fucked up to make a proper hiding spot, so the downstairs closet it was for now.

After looking over at Vergil one more time just in case, Dante headed down the stairs and stuffed his father’s sword into the very back of the closet, shifting some old coats and boots in front of it to help hide the wrapped bundle before closing the door firmly shut. Once he was satisfied that the sword had been successfully hidden, he returned to the bedroom, half-relieved and half-concerned to see Vergil still unconscious on the floor.

Dante sighed, and sat down next to Vergil. He stared at Vergil’s unconscious form for a few minutes, just thinking quietly to himself; Part of him still couldn’t believe what was happening, as if it were some strange dream, but that face- Fucked up though it was at the moment- Was unmistakable.

“...Twenty years,” Dante muttered idly. “It’s been twenty years since the last time we saw each other without you immediately trying to murder me. Fuckin’ incredible.”

Vergil gave no response, his face still a stern frown even as he slept. Dante shook his head, and leaned back against what remained of the bedframe with a yawn.

“Pretty fucked up when you think about it,” he continued. “Man, I thought you were  _ dead _ for ages, and when I found out you weren’t, you didn’t even give me a chance to catch up. No ‘Hey Dante, it’s been a while, how about we go get some lunch’, just ‘Hey Dante, give me your amulet, I’m gonna open a goddamn portal to hell because fuck you’. And now you’re…” Dante paused, and gestured to Vergil’s general vicinity. “All brainwashed and shit. Man, what the hell.”

He stole a quick glance at Vergil. Nope, still out cold. Dante sighed, and continued to think out loud.

“Not that there’s much point in asking this, but… Do you think when you wake up, you could maybe not try to kill me for a while? Just for like, five, ten minutes? I’m… tired,” he admitted, speaking about far more than just physical exhaustion. “I don’t  _ want  _ to fight you anymore. Not- Not like this. You know, when we used to fight when we were kids, it was always for fun, not… to  _ kill,”  _ he muttered, biting his lip. “I don’t want to kill you. I never have. And maybe this is selfish of me, but I’d like it if you also didn’t want to kill me. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffed, and tossed a small piece of broken furniture at the wall out of boredom. “Guess it probably is, seeing as you work for the family archnemesis now,” he grumbled, glancing at Vergil. Even just the thought of Mundus left a bad taste in Dante’s mouth; Come to think of it, he realized, it probably wasn’t a great idea to just let Mundus do his evil scheming or whatever he was up to on Mallet Island…

...Well, that was a problem for another day, Dante decided. Fuck Mundus- Dealing with Vergil was the more important thing right now. Ol’ Three-Eyes could take a rain check, damn it.

“You know, it’s kinda funny… After you- After you fell off that cliff,” Dante swallowed the lump in his throat at the memory of that day, of his failure- “...After you fell off that cliff, and I assumed you were dead, I… I guess I thought that by killing Mundus, I could avenge you. I sure as hell didn’t expect you to show up again, but I guess you’re pretty bad at staying dead,” he said with a half-hearted laugh. “I almost didn’t recognize you, to be honest. Thought you were just another one of Mundus’ goons at first. If you hadn’t reacted the way you did to the amulet…”

…Dante fell silent, eyes going wide as he slowly realized just what  _ would _ have happened if he hadn’t recognized Vergil.

A chill went down his spine, leaving a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach. For several minutes, he didn’t say a word, taking several deep, shaking breaths as it hit him just how close he’d come to killing his own brother. His brother, who he’d already lost twice.

“I… I’m not leaving you behind this time,” he whispered, and his mouth felt dry. “Not again. Not ever. You can try to kill me every damn day if you want. I don’t care how long it takes- Days, months, years- Hell, even if you stay like this forever… I’m not leaving you alone again. I promise.”


	2. Anguish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> I almost cried in the middle of the school cafeteria while watching Rachel write the flashback scene. Then I remembered I had French fries so it was ok
> 
> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> Yeah we read the new Visions of V chapter! Yeah we know what pain is! : )

Dante awoke the next day, much to his disappointment, with a very stiff neck, thanks to the current state of his bed. (Truth be told, he wasn’t sure which part was more disappointing- The soreness, or the fact that he was awake at all. Probably the latter.)

Despite the astounding discomfort provided by the broken mattress, Dante found the thought of actually getting out of bed even more unpleasant. And so, he didn’t. For what could have been minutes, or maybe hours, he simply stared at the ceiling, eyelids heavy with sleep and brain heavy with… Whatever the hell had happened yesterday. God, what _had_ happened yesterday? Had all that insanity been real, or was it all some fucked up dream?

A quick glance to his side answered that question for Dante, as he spotted Vergil’s massive form seated calmly on the floor. Vergil’s gaze, he noticed, seemed to be focused on the amulet; Dante shivered slightly at the sight of Vergil’s gaunt, colorless face, still just as unsettling as it had been the day before.

“Hey,” Dante muttered tiredly, not quite sure what to say. “Are you… Are you, uh… Feeling any better today?”

Vergil briefly glanced at Dante, narrowing his eyes at him for a moment, but said nothing, returning his attention to the amulet.

Dante groaned, and shifted slightly- He really was starting to get sick of the bed. “What time is it, anyway..?”

Again, Vergil said nothing.

“Oh, so it’s like that, huh,” Dante mumbled with a sigh. “Well… Thanks for not trying to kill me, at least. Appreciate it.” For a few moments he contemplated going back to sleep, but it’s not like anything would get magically better without him doing it himself, so he sat up and stretched instead, rolling his shoulders. “Hey, will you knock the door down if I go take a piss? That would be awkward for both of us you know.”

Vergil scowled at him. Maybe he actually understood him that time.

“Whatever, dude.” Dante got up and headed into his bathroom, keeping the amulet within Vergil’s line of sight until the door was completely closed. When no clomping footsteps followed him, he went about his business and even indulged in washing his face and brushing his teeth. He emerged to find Vergil standing about where he had left him, his sword planted in the floor (aw fuck that was another thing he was going to have to fix, thanks bro), calmly waiting for him to return. How polite of him.

“I’m still not gonna fight you, by the way. Just to keep you updated.”

Vergil scowled at Dante, and gave an irritated huff; Dante raised an eyebrow as he got the distinct sense that Vergil was calling him a coward. Bitch.

Dante sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Look, whatever, man. Judge me all you want, I’ve got shit to do. Unlike you, _I_ actually have a life-”

He stopped dead the moment he realized what he’d just said. He bit his lip, an immediate sense of guilt settling in. 

“I’m… Sorry. That was mean of me,” he apologized quietly.

Despite Dante’s horror, Vergil seemed unfazed by the comment. Dante couldn’t help but wonder if he’d even understood it at all. Did… Did Vergil even know that there _were_ things to life other than fighting? Had Mundus allowed him to do anything else? Had Vergil spent the past nine years doing nothing but-

...Dante paused, taking a deep breath. No. The last thing he needed right now was another guilt spiral. Like he’d told Vergil, he had shit to do, depression be damned; The best thing he could do for Vergil right now, he reminded himself, was to do something about that giant hole in the wall so Vergil wouldn’t have to be confined to the disaster zone that was Dante’s tiny bedroom. He needed to just… Focus on that. Right.

“Gotta get downstairs cleaned up,” he muttered to himself, scratching his head with a yawn. “And then… I’m gonna have some fuckin’ tomato juice.”

Alright. Time to figure out what could be done to cover that hole. Most of the furniture downstairs was intact, so maybe he could move around the extra file cabinets that Morrison had gotten him?

Huh. Morrison was probably going to freak when he eventually came around and saw Vergil. Oh well. He’d deal with that when it happened and not a moment sooner. Too much to deal with already.

Dante idly brushed his hair out of his face as he headed towards the stairs. Out of habit, he swung his legs over the side of the banister, sliding down casually- For a distance of about a foot, after which the banister gave a loud creak and snapped clean in half, sending Dante tumbling down the side of the stairs and onto the floor with a loud _thud._

He paused for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to process what just happened.

“Alright, guess this is just my life now,” he muttered, not bothering to get up. What was the point? Clearly he’d been born only to suffer. Even the simple joy of sliding down the stair rail had been denied to him. There was nothing good left in the world anymore. The banister was dead and so was Dante. Life was meaningless. Pointless. There was no longer any reason for him to do anything, so he might as well simply lie there at the bottom of the stairs forever.

As Dante lay there, contemplating the cruel fate he’d been dealt, he heard a noise something like “kathunk kathunk kathunk _crash.”_ It wasn’t until he heard a startled, irritated grunt that he realized what the crash was, and immediately jumped to his feet.

Sure enough, there was Vergil, standing about two-thirds of the way down the stairs and glaring at them, his leg plunged solidly through the splintered remains of one of the steps.

“Vergil! The hell are you doing?!” Dante exclaimed in surprise. “I told you yesterday, you can’t-”

Vergil ignored Dante as he pulled his leg out of the stairs, kicked the broken board to the side, and jumped down onto the floor. Dante stared, incredulous, as Vergil stood in the middle of the room and glanced around at his surroundings.

“...Dude. _Please_ go back upstairs,” Dante pleaded, a clear exhaustion to his voice.

Vergil scoffed, and turned away from Dante, walking casually towards the desk with a look of mild curiosity.

“Nooooo no no no, do _not_ go over there,” Dante blurted out, running in front of Vergil and holding out his hands to stop him. “I- Look, you see that big-ass hole in the wall over there?” he began, nodding towards the hole in question.

Vergil followed Dante’s gaze, and then glanced back at Dante, an unimpressed “and what of it?” expression on his face.

“Yeah, see? You can see the whole street out there, right?” Dante continued. “Lots of people walk up and down that street every day. Nice, normal, human people- Not like you and me. These guys live in a nice little happy bubble of mediocrity,” he explained. “And you- I mean, like, no offense, bro, but you’re not exactly the kind of person most people expect to bump into at Starbucks, if you catch my drift? If people see you, they’re gonna freak out. And then they’re gonna yell at _me,_ and it’s just gonna be a whole big thing that frankly I really don’t wanna fuckin’ deal with.”

Vergil stared blankly at Dante. Dante smacked a hand against his forehead as he realized Vergil probably didn’t understand half of what he’d said. 

“...Look, just… Just go wait upstairs for like, five minutes while I cover it up? Please?”

Vergil stared at Dante for a moment, before finally giving a long, dragged out sigh and rolling his eyes. He slunk towards the stairs with exaggerated irritation, pausing for a moment to glance back at Dante with a pointedly impatient look before climbing back up.

“You don’t gotta be rude about it!” Dante shouted after him; In reality, though, he was relieved (and, frankly, more than a little surprised) Vergil had listened to him. But man, had this been how Vergil felt when they were kids and Dante kept hounding him to play? At least Dante didn’t usually destroy Vergil’s stuff. Okay, maybe that happened a few times. But still!

With Vergil out of sight, Dante started moving the file cabinets from the corner they had been originally shoved in. They were still empty so they were light enough to carry over, and when he pushed them closely together they mostly covered the hole. There was still a bit of a draft around them, but that could be covered up with a tarp or something for now. 

Now that the hole had been taken care of… ish, Dante took a moment to scan the room. Was there anything else he needed to- Ah. Right. The photo.

Dante crossed his fingers that Vergil would stay upstairs a little longer as he walked over to the desk, and picked up the photo of his mother. He paused for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully; As he looked at his mother’s familiar smile, the memory of the incident with Trish briefly flashed through his mind.

“Man… First you’ve got a demon clone running around, now Vergil’s some sort of trigger-happy zombie,” he muttered to the photo, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m havin’ a weird-ass week, Mom. It’s like a demon soap opera in here. I swear, if Dad shows up or any more weird bullshit like that, I’ll eat my own sword.”

He sighed, and shook his head in disbelief as he carefully, gently placed the photo inside the desk drawer. Alright.

“‘Kay, you can come down now,” he shouted up the stairs, and yawned as he turned towards the (thankfully, still intact) fridge in the corner. Finally, time for some-

Dante’s fingers barely grazed the refrigerator door before he suddenly found himself on the ground, a familiar face grinning down at him.

“Vergil! Jesus Christ, man, what’s your problem?! I just wanted a fuckin’ drink! That was mean!” Dante exclaimed as he wriggled out of Vergil’s grasp.

Vergil laughed, and stepped back for a moment, gesturing for Dante to attack him.

Dante glared at Vergil. “Fuck o- Ah, dude! Seriously?!” he groaned as Vergil once again came towards him, his sword raised high over his head. Dante only just barely managed to grab Rebellion from behind the desk in time to block the hit, grunting in irritation as the blade grazed his shoulder. Sloppy block.

Dante opened his mouth to say something once again, but found himself only able to stare in utter _fucking_ disbelief as a halo of blue energy shaped itself into the form of swords around Vergil, each one pointing directly at Dante, and-

...The light from the summoned swords fell upon Dante’s amulet, creating a ring of purple reflections in its shiny red surface. They hung in midair inches from Dante’s face, and Vergil stared at the amulet with wide eyes; After a few seconds, he stood down, abruptly turning away from Dante and dismissing the swords with a growl of frustration. Vergil’s hand rose to his chest, surely reaching for where his own amulet would be, but clenched around empty air, and the fingertips of his gauntlet scraped against the breastplate. His face twisted in misery as he looked down at his chest, his hand now in a fist and pressed against it. 

Dante’s heart ached as he watched Vergil. Seeing his brother like this… It made him want to do something about it. So he took a little risk.

“Vergil?” he called softly, taking a few slow steps toward him. “What happened to your amulet?” He reached out a hand and gently laid it on Vergil’s fist. “Did Mundus take it from you?”

Vergil lifted his eyes to meet Dante’s, and Dante could see the pain in them through the red. Vergil’s jaw worked like he wanted to speak, wanted to tell him something important, when suddenly the crackle of the blue electricity shot through him and across the armor, catching Dante up in it as well. Dante might have heard someone scream before everything went black, but he wasn’t sure which one of them it was.

* * *

_He coughed up another mouthful of blood, struggling to breathe with pierced lungs. But he refused to show any further weakness, even as the shattered Yamato slipped from his grasp. The demon emperor gazed down on him with disgust, which Vergil returned in his own stare tenfold._

_“How disgraceful, Son of Sparda. Sparda. Sparda.” Mundus’ voice boomed. “That traitor! Had he not sullied demon blood with a human womb, perhaps he could have had a son with at least some grit.”_

_That was more than enough. “Done with the drivel yet?” Vergil retorted, blinking through the blood running down his face and hair in his eyes. “I can still keep going.” Had to keep going, he couldn’t give up. Not like this. If he could just gather a little more strength…_

_Mundus laughed, an unsettling noise that made his stomach churn. “Let me save you from that weakness.” And Mundus reached for him, ripping him from the tendrils that held him aloft with an enormous hand. Vergil lay unmoving in his palm as the monster holding him began weaving a spell, the magic causing him to float between Mundus’ hands as it enveloped him in darkness thick like sludge. In a moment of panic, Vergil reached down to where he could see Yamato’s hilt sinking into the bloody sea below, but it was too far and he had not the energy to call it to his hand._

_The sludge wrapped around him, crawling up his body as Mundus announced, “The heart is a tumor of weakness. So let me rid you of it. You need neither ego nor memories. I will bestow upon you a new name, Servant of the Demon Emperor.”_

_Vergil was unable to struggle, going limp as he faded._

_“Your new name will be…”_

_Nelo Angelo only knew pain. He hung from his chains listlessly, eyes half open as he felt the burn of corruption running through his veins. Would that Mundus had simply killed him… But he was still too proud to beg for death._

_He didn’t look up as he sensed Mundus approach his cell, instead closing his eyes in an attempt to prepare himself for the next session of torture._

_“It is time, my servant. I will accept no further defiance from you.” Mundus’ voice felt even louder with his eyes closed, so Nelo Angelo opened them once more and gave a pained gasp as he saw the emperor’s hand come toward him, plucking the amulet from around his neck. No!_

_“No!” Nelo Angelo rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. “Give it back!”_

_Wrong move, a show of vulnerability. But he hadn’t been able to help it._

_Mundus smiled, a sickening sight. “Only if you finally surrender your heart and mind to me. Resist me no longer, and I shall set you free of your burdens. I will bestow upon you my power, and you will serve me in bliss.”_

_If there had been anything in Nelo Angelo’s stomach, he would have thrown it up several times over by now. In the Underworld, he couldn’t keep track of time. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had lost to Mundus or how long he had fought to retain what little of his sense of self remained. But now… all he truly had left was the amulet his mother had given him. A final gift. The only proof she ever cared for him._

_“I…” His breath caught and a bitter, bloody tear ran down his cheek. It went against everything in him to say the next words, but he hoped his mother and father could forgive him, feel proud of him for having lasted as long as this. “I surrender.”_

* * *

He came to, head pounding and heart filled with shame. He had given in. He had failed himself and his family. And now he was this broken thing, unfit for anything but to serve… to serve… What?

This wasn’t right. Blinking, he raised his hand in front of his face and saw tan skin, not corrupted grey flesh or a heavy dark gauntlet. Who?

He sat up heavily, looking around, and froze when he saw the other figure in the room. Himself? 

No, that wasn’t right either. Not exactly. He was… he was Dante. Not Vergil. Not Nelo Angelo. Sure as fuck not Mundus’ servant.

Dante took a deep breath and shook his head to clear it, only to wince as his headache intensified.

He swallowed back the urge to throw up, feeling sweat drip down the back of his neck as he shuddered at the still-fresh memory of what he’d just seen. Part of him wondered why he’d seen it, but most of him was too occupied with the horror of it all to care; It was a disturbing enough image on its own, but knowing that that was what Vergil had gone through… Knowing just what kind of torture he’d been put through, how he’d been beaten down from a proud warrior to a numb husk…

(Nine years, Dante thought to himself. For nine years Vergil had been tortured. He’d practically been a child when…)

Dante took another deep, shaking breath, and looked up, searching for Vergil. Where was he? Was he still with Dante? Was he safe?

He found Vergil sitting up across the floor, staring back at him. He could tell- How, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that Vergil knew they’d both seen the same thing. And yet… Vergil didn’t seem to lash out, nor look at Dante with curiosity as he had occasionally. Instead, he just… Slumped back against the wall.

He looked exhausted.

Dante’s first instinct was to reach for Vergil- But he hesitated a moment, and then drew his hand back, unsure whether or not touch would trigger another reaction and frankly not willing to find out. Instead, he bit his lip, and quietly, hesitantly called out: “Vergil?”

It took a moment for Vergil to react, as if he didn’t initially realize Dante was talking to him. When he did, however, his reaction was minimal; He didn’t even move, simply glancing up at Dante with a hollow expression. It pained Dante to see the look on Vergil’s face. He looked so… Defeated, so hopeless, as if he’d given up on fighting and knew there was nothing left for him but pain. There wasn’t even an ember left of Vergil’s raging fiery spirit- Just cold, dead ash. No emotions left but fear, shame, sorrow, and exhaustion.

Dante grit his teeth, and swallowed back tears as he spoke. “H-Hey… Listen… Everything that happened… None of that was your fault, ok? None of it,” he told Vergil, gentle yet sincere. “You did your best. And I- I know Mom and Dad would be proud of you.”

Again, Vergil didn’t move, barely gave any indication that he was listening. But after a moment, Dante saw his lip tremble, and tears began to roll down his pale cheeks as he cried softly.

Dante’s eyes widened as he saw Vergil begin to slowly, just barely shake his head no.

“Hey- Hey, no, listen, I mean it,” Dante insisted, crawling over to Vergil’s side (lightning be damned, he wasn’t going to stay away). “You did everything you could. You… Man, you were already hurt when he got to you. It’s honestly really fuckin’ impressive you held out as long as you did. You should be proud of that,” he reminded him. “And, hey… You haven’t lost yet, right? You’re still alive. And you’re here. You’re- Listen, you and me, we’re- We’re gonna get you back to yourself again, and then we’re gonna go kick Mundus’ ass, yeah?”

Once again, Vergil shook his head. Dante saw him wince in pain as the armor once again began crackling with electricity- Milder, now, but still enough, more than enough after everything Vergil had been through. Vergil’s sniffles grew into full-on sobs, and he collapsed onto Dante’s shoulder, reaching a shaking hand up to grasp at Dante’s amulet.

Dante fought back tears of his own, and wrapped his arms around Vergil, unable to help himself despite the pain of the blue lightning spreading to him as well. He placed a hand on Vergil’s head, the one place that wasn’t covered in armor.

“Oh, bro… It’s ok. You’re ok now,” Dante whispered softly. “You’re safe. I promise. I won’t let Mundus hurt you anymore.”

Dante felt tears begin to soak through his shirt, but said nothing, holding Vergil and whispering words of comfort until the lightning died down and he fell quietly asleep.


	3. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> There's a bit in here that came about after we watched the Fullmetal Alchemist live action movie together (great movie btw, don't fall for haters who have no idea how movies work), and at a certain scene both were just like "OH VIBES?" See if you can figure out which one it is.
> 
> From Rachel (catboysam)
> 
> Me: Ok here's how this scene will go  
> Vergil: Actually,

Nelo Angelo was thinking. He should be raising his sword once more and killing the man before him, but instead he remained where he was and allowed himself these moments of thought.

Usually when disobedience clouded his mind, the armor’s punishment would subdue him until his master could intervene himself and reassert his will over Nelo Angelo. But it seemed that the man in red had somehow brought them both out of his master’s immediate reach. 

So Nelo Angelo, for the first time he could clearly remember, was allowed the luxury of rebellious introspection for a while.

The man in red was the most curious enemy he had ever faced. Nelo Angelo had encountered many of his master’s foes before, usually on missions to defeat would-be rivals for the Underworld’s throne, but those had all been demons, power-hungry and ruthless. Nelo Angelo has relished destroying them in his master’s name.

This man, this... human(?) was completely different. First of all, he had brought him here, to what appeared to be his home, where he should be most vulnerable. Second, despite having brought Nelo Angelo here against his and surely his master’s will, he did not seem to view Nelo Angelo as a captive, and treated him with respect and... something Nelo Angelo did not know the word for, though he quietly admitted to himself he did not object to the treatment. However, third and most vexing of all, he refused to have a proper battle with Nelo Angelo. It seemed he did not wish to have his home destroyed, and yet would not follow Nelo Angelo outside where they could have an honorable, thrilling fight. He had been perfectly willing to while on his master’s island, so what had changed?

Ah. But he had momentarily forgotten the fourth strange thing about the man. His face, his voice, his amulet, even his fighting style. All of them were achingly familiar, and Nelo Angelo wanted to know why. Yet every time he had been close to something, a memory, a piece of recognition, the enchantment in his armor activated what Master Mundus had called “disobedience training”, scattering his thoughts and reminding him of his obligations, his true purpose, the punishment that awaited him if he failed. But without his master to reinvigorate the spell, it was beginning to weaken. What would that mean for him? He was meant to be Emperor Mundus’ perfect weapon, an unflinching soldier who obliterated any wretch who stood in the path of the ultimate power of the Underworld. 

But this man called him by a different name that tugged at his mind, and had seen his memories of his most humiliating defeat, from before he had come to understand his place in the world. And yet he did not mock him or exploit his displays of weakness as Nelo Angelo knew Emperor Mundus’ other generals would. The man even declared that he would prevent his master from harming him. Either this man, who seemed to despise his master as much as his master despised him, was incredibly bold or extremely stupid. 

Nelo Angelo could not help but find him intriguing.

* * *

For the first time in what felt like forever, the Devil May Cry was quiet. Vergil slept silently on the couch, having been carefully, gently placed there by Dante, along with a pillow and blanket (Would the blanket even do anything, with Vergil’s body encased in armor? Could Vergil even get cold? Dante wasn’t sure, but it felt like the right thing to do, so he went with it). Dante had cleaned up the worst of the rubble, and now sat in the desk chair staring rather blankly into a bottle of tomato juice. The adrenaline had long since worn off, and now Dante felt rather numb, both inside and out; His mind had worked itself to exhaustion trying to process everything that had happened over the past several hours, and now he found himself simply zoned out, as if he had no thoughts left to think. He may have even fallen asleep himself, but he couldn’t quite say for certain.

He considered making his tomato juice into a Bloody Mary, but that was probably a stupid idea. He needed to be as present as possible, even though it hurt like hell. (Not that he felt especially “present” to begin with, but still, best not to make things worse at least.)

Dante wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before he was woken from his semi-conscious state by what was quickly becoming a rather familiar clanging sound. Vergil had evidently woken up, and was now looking around the room, a slightly disoriented expression on his face. He glanced down at the blanket that was draped over him and raised an eyebrow.

“Vergil?” Dante called out- And then paused, not sure what else to say.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Vergil stared at Dante with wide eyes; Dante stared back, trying to gather his thoughts (easier said than done- his brain felt like mush) and figure out where the hell to go from here.

“...You… uh. You- You wanna get pizza?” Dante found himself blurting out, and then mentally kicked himself.  _ Why _ the hell was that the first thing he thought to say? He wasn’t even hungry! (Though, in all fairness, he usually only got hungry every few days; Pizza was just his depression food. ...Which, come to think of it, was probably why it was evidently his default reaction to an emotionally overwhelming situation. Cool. That was probably a bad sign.)

Vergil stared silently at Dante. He had a slightly perplexed expression on his face, brow furrowed in thought; Either Vergil was doing some deep introspection, Dante figured, or he was trying to figure out what the hell pizza was. Either one seemed equally likely at this point.

Dante sighed, and ran a hand down his face tiredly. “You know what? Yeah. Sure. Fuck it, let’s- Let’s get pizza,” he decided. “Not like I know what the fuck else to do right now…” 

As he reached for the phone, he found himself grateful for the fact that his body seemed to remember how to order a pizza, as his mind sure the fuck was not around at the moment, and seemed to be getting worse and worse by the second. Vergil still seemed to be staring at him, though Dante noticed that his expression had changed slightly from one of puzzlement to… Sympathy? Concern? Something like that. 

What? What did Vergil want? God, Dante felt so out of it… Whatever teeny bit of his mind was still awake seemed to move in slow motion as he stared at Vergil, trying to figure out why the hell he was looking at him like that. Vergil was upset about something..? What did he want…

Tomato juice, Dante decided after a few minutes. Seemed like as good an answer as any. He grabbed a bottle from the fridge, stumbled over to the couch, and pressed it into Vergil’s gloved hand.

“Here,” Dante told him, ignoring the deeply confused look on Vergil’s face. “I uh… Immah take a nap now. Nighty night, dude.”

With that, Dante calmly passed out on the couch next to Vergil.

* * *

Nelo Angelo was becoming increasingly confused. This was the second time that the man had fallen asleep next to him. Why did he seem to think that resting near his intended enemy was a good idea? Did he have a damaged sense of self-preservation? Was that why he thought he could face Emperor Mundus and survive?

Ah. That was right. His master. Nelo Angelo stood up and walked over to one of the windows, gazing out at the unfamiliar territory outside. Master Mundus would surely want him to return to his side, but he had no idea of where he currently was. He had been unconscious for quite some time, and apparently it had been long enough that the man in red had brought him all the way to their current location without Nelo Angelo being aware of any of the route. That would certainly complicate things.

He eyed the door. The man in red had urged him not to leave, but he seemed more concerned with the idea of humans finding them than he did with Nelo Angelo leaving in the first place. Why was that? Was the man hiding from humans in plain sight? Nelo Angelo could sense many humans in the area, so it seemed an unwise thing to do if he did not want to be detected.

Turning back to the makeshift bed the man was now resting on, Nelo Angelo decided to take another look at him. His face was rather pale, and he was muttering unintelligibly in his sleep. He looked uninjured, but perhaps being caught up in the armor’s punishment spell had severely affected him. He was certainly in no state to stop Nelo Angelo if he decided to go out and cause a commotion, which would be the most likely way to get Master Mundus’ attention.

Although… perhaps Nelo Angelo was not quite ready to go back. The man that he had been ordered to kill had too many questions surrounding him, and his master was not the type to answer any of them, desiring constant obedience and unwavering loyalty, only offering Nelo Angelo his might in return.

This man, however… Nelo Angelo looked down at his hand to see he was still holding the bottle that the man had given him freely, with no expectation that anything must be given in return. Opening the top, he sniffed it, smelling no poison, and looked inside. The liquid was red, but did not smell like any blood he had had before. Though, if the liquid was indeed blood, then the man certainly couldn’t be some kind of common human. Of course, that should have been obvious from how he had transformed on Mallet Island, his appearance changing into that of a demon and his power growing while in that form exponentially. Nelo Angelo knew that some demons took on human disguises to blend in with the human world, or had more human appearances to begin with, like the demon Trish his master had created for the purpose of luring the man in red to Mallet. Was this man one of those kinds of demons, only showing his true form when he required its power?

But if that were true, why did he act so human? Master Mundus had said many times that humans were weak because of their fragile hearts that lead them to caring for others besides themselves, leaving themselves open to attacks both physical and mental. And the man in red certainly acted in such a manner towards him, seeing Nelo Angelo’s vulnerability and showing his own in the same moment. He kept trying to communicate with him in a candid manner, as if there was some kind of connection between the two of them that Nelo Angelo was unaware of or unable to remember. 

And there was the dilemma. The armor would not allow him to remember, if there was anything from before his induction into Master Mundus’ service  _ to  _ remember. But if the armor’s enchantment was getting weaker, and Nelo Angelo remained with the man long enough for it to significantly fade… perhaps he would obtain the answers he desired. He knew what the consequences would be for failing his master or taking too long to return to him. But there was something he was beginning to feel, like a hollow ache in his chest, that compelled him to remain.

Surely he could stay a little while longer… Couldn’t he? He doubted Master Mundus would search for him right away. He knew, deep down, that he would need to return to his master’s side eventually- Knew what the consequences would be if he didn’t- But surely a few more hours, a few more days couldn’t hurt? Though he doubted he could get away with much longer than that, a thought that, strangely enough, left him with a pang of disappointment.

Well, no matter. Even if his time on this strange detour was limited, he was still determined to get answers. Ideally, if he was smart about it, a few days was more than enough to get them.

He would begin, he decided, by investigating his surroundings. A sensible move in general, as if he was going to be staying in this new environment, it would be best to familiarize himself with it. And, seeing as this appeared to be the man in red’s home, perhaps examining his belongings could reveal something about this enigmatic opponent.

Speaking of the man in red… He shifted position as Nelo Angelo stood up, and Nelo Angelo paused, wondering if the sound of his armor had woken him up. (Stealth had certainly never been his strong point, something he often found rather annoying.) After a moment, though, it became clear that the man was still asleep, though it was clearly not a particularly restful sleep at that; The man’s brow was creased with unease, and he rolled around in his sleep, muttering things Nelo Angelo couldn’t quite make out.

“...Vergil…”

Nelo Angelo stopped dead in his tracks, his blood running cold at the sound of the man’s words. There was that name again, that name that felt so foreign yet so agonizingly familiar… Why? Why did-

...He paused, taking a deep breath. No. He was  _ not  _ going to think about it, not right now at least. Nelo Angelo knew all too well that, should he choose to pursue it, that feeling of familiarity would most certainly be followed by another session of “disobedience training”- And frankly, he was getting tired of that. Though it was something he had long since grown used to, it was still… An agonizing experience, really, and not one he preferred to repeat if at all avoidable. Especially since the last incident, to both of their surprise, seemed to have unintentionally affected his opponent as well.

He couldn’t help but feel some amount of guilt at that. True, the man in red  _ was  _ his adversary, a hated enemy of his master, but his orders were to kill the man, not to torture him; Nelo Angelo’s punishment was meant for himself, and himself alone. It wasn’t something that others need be subjected to, and now his disobedience had caused suffering for more than just himself. It was a foolish, dishonorable mistake, and though he knew this man was his master’s enemy, he couldn’t help but feel remorse.

(And, if he was being honest with himself… The ordeal of his punishment was a pain he would not wish on anyone. Save for possibly Mundus himself, but  _ that  _ kind of thinking was sure to get him killed if he ever admitted to it.)

Nelo Angelo watched the man in red for a moment; After some thought, he picked up the large piece of fabric that currently rested on the floor, and tossed it onto the man’s sleeping form. Why the man had covered Nelo Angelo with it before, he didn’t know, but perhaps it would provide some form of respite to him. Maybe?

Well, he supposed, either it would or it wouldn’t. Shrugging, he turned away from the sleeping man, and instead turned his attention towards the room before him.

The man in red’s home appeared to be… Modest, to put things politely. The large hole in the wall from earlier had been partially covered up by a pile of cabinets, and several large chunks of the wall had been piled up in a corner, though a fair bit of rubble remained scattered across the room. A number of items lay strewn about the floor in various states of disarray, including a large amount of empty containers, and much of the room bore clear scorch marks. Nelo Angelo felt a mixture of disdain and pity at the fact that the room’s appearance was  _ not _ a result of their battle. 

Huffing in frustration, he raised the bottle in his hand to his mouth and took a sip, frowning at the taste. What kind of strange-tasting blood was this? Did the man in red have a fraudulent supplier? Oh well. It would still provide some kind of nourishment regardless, so he drank the rest of the bottle anyway and placed it on the man’s desk. Why had the man given him sustenance from his own supply, anyway? Had he seen that Nelo Angelo was in pain and decided to just… help him? How bafflingly human of him. Nelo Angelo had his own personal code of honor, but the man in red constantly went beyond such a thing for a demon since they had arrived here. One more thing for him to investigate, he supposed.

Speaking of investigating… Nelo Angelo glanced up at the walls, and was intrigued- Delighted, even, to see that each one was adorned with a variety of carefully displayed weaponry and skulls, no doubt the spoils of battle. Of course, he’d known from fighting him that the man in red was far from weak, but the trophies with which he decorated his home made it even more clear that the man was an accomplished warrior, and proud of his victories. ...Though, this did make it even more frustrating that the man refused to fight Nelo Angelo. The opportunity to fight such an opponent would have been a memorable one indeed.

Again, Nelo Angelo found himself wondering just  _ why _ the man in red refused to fight him. Clearly, the man relished in the thrill of combat just as much as Nelo Angelo himself did, and yet… Strangely, he still refused to fight. Did he not consider Nelo Angelo a worthy opponent? No, surely that wasn’t it; He’d been perfectly willing to fight him back at Mallet Island, even going so far as to praise Nelo Angelo’s courage. Clearly, he’d been enjoying the fight. Here, the man didn’t seem to think it wise to fight in their current environment- Yet he had been the one to bring them there in the first place. Why?

It was all so… Vexing. Everything about the man in red was bafflingly contradictory. He had been eager to fight Nelo Angelo, yet had brought him to a place where they could not do battle; He had taken Nelo Angelo against his will, yet did not seem to treat him as a prisoner; He spoke in a rough, cocky manner, yet never mocked Nelo Angelo for the things that seemed most obvious; He was an enemy of Emperor Mundus, and clearly despised him in kind, yet treated Nelo Angelo similarly to how one might treat an ally. And on top of all that, Nelo Angelo  _ still _ couldn’t tell if the man was a human or a demon. 

Nelo Angelo sighed. Up until now, his life had been so simple. An easy routine: Receive orders from master Mundus to dispose of an enemy, hunt them down and vanquish them, return to his master, wait for his next mission, get bored and consider rebelling, immediately receive a painful reminder not to do that. Repeat, repeat, repeat. There was a cycle, a logic to it, never much to question or think about. And now he had nothing  _ but _ questions. 

Alas. He probably wasn’t going to receive any answers to most of his questions, at the very least not until his opponent awoke. Better to set those thoughts aside for now, and continue familiarizing himself with the new environment. There were a few doors that presumably led to more rooms, so that appeared to be a decent place to start. 

He approached the door closest to the stairs and opened it slowly, wary of any potential threats that might dwell within. There was no one inside, but it always paid to be cautious. He stepped into the small room past the door, careful to lean down and not hit his head on the doorway. THe room contained a small bathing tub, a toilet, and a sink. And above the sink… was a mirror.

Nelo Angelo was familiar with the concept of mirrors and reflections. He had used one for a dramatic entrance when introducing himself to the man in red, appearing as the man’s reflection before showing his true form. But this was the first time he had looked in one purposefully that he could currently remember.

His helmet had been taken off by the man in red; he had vaguely registered this before, but it was less of a concern in the moment when he had been so eager to do battle. His face was less overtly demonic than most, he was faintly aware, but this…

The curve of his lips, the slant of his nose, the shape of his eyes, his chin and jawline… barring Nelo Angelo’s gaunter cheeks, his facial structure was exactly the same as the man in red. There was pale, cool skin instead of warm tan, and glowing red eyes instead of tired blue, but with Nelo Angelo’s hair messy and fallen down on his face, one could mistake them for… mistake them for…

_ The rain poured down in rhythmic waves, bathing the roof of the T---n-ni--r- in the light of the full moon. V----l stared calmly across at his opponent, and the gun pointed at his face. _

_ “So… This is what they call a heartwarming family reunion.” There was a slight laugh in D--t-’s voice, but there were no illusions of any true humor; His face was deathly serious, his hand pointing the gun unwaveringly at V--g-- even as thunder boomed behind them. There was a fiery anger in those familiar eyes, shining an electric blue even behind his rain-soaked white bangs. They’d fought so many times as children, yet there was nothing playful about their dynamic now, as -an-e bared his fangs in an enraged grimace rather than a mischievous grin. _

_ He almost felt sorry it had to end like this. Almost. _

_ -er--l smirked, reaching for the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it with a flick of his thumb. “You got that right.” _

Nelo Angelo could see his face twist up in longing and despair in the mirror. The man in red, but younger, and… himself? The hollow ache in his chest felt deeper than before. This memory… was from before he was bound into his master’s service. He and the man in red had known each other before then. And he had said the word... “family”?

His body seized up as the armor activated, scattering his thoughts and causing electric pain to wrack his body. No! Not now! The hollowness became a howl as the punishment spell tried to purge his mind, and he fell to one knee, one hand on his chest and the other holding his head. Please! He didn’t want to lose this! He wanted to remember!

The pain intensified, sensing his resistance, but he fought against it with all of his might regardless. The location began to fade; the sound of the rain and their voices was no longer clear. Still, he clung to it as hard as he could. He clung to what was left of the memory as the spell finally let up, but all he was left with was the expression on the man in red’s face as they stared at each other, and that sense of anticipation and loss.

As Nelo Angelo panted on the floor, holding himself up with a trembling arm, he felt his resolve renew itself. The “disobedience training” was a forceful reminder of what awaited him on Mallet Island should he fail his master, but it also emphasized to him why, despite the necessity of his loyalty to Emperor Mundus, he needed to stay just a while longer. If Master Mundus did not want him to see these memories, if he was not allowed to know his relationship to the man in red and had been commanded to kill him, surely there must be a reason why. And Nelo Angelo intended to find out, regardless of the consequences.

* * *

Dante groaned as he came to, wondering when he’d even passed out in the first place. At least his head felt better, though. Nothing was better for clearing the mind after having suddenly absorbed a shitload of trauma than being unconscious for a bit, apparently. 

Speaking of said shitload of trauma… Dante glanced around, and had a brief second of panic as he realized Vergil was no longer in the room. “Vergil? Where’d you go?”

Fortunately, it seemed Vergil hadn’t gone too far. Dante let out a sigh of relief as heard the telltale clank of armor, and saw Vergil emerge from the bathroom- Although, Dante noted, Vergil appeared to be stumbling slightly, one hand pressed against his head as a few last crackles of blue lightning wove their way across the armor.

What  _ was _ that electricity thing about, anyway? Dante recalled it happening each time Vergil focused his attention on the amulet, and it evidently caused him a lot of pain, strong enough to knock him out. Was it Dante’s amulet that did it, some sort of… Rebound or something, a bad reaction to Vergil’s own magic? Dante glanced down at his chest- No, he was still wearing his amulet, so that couldn’t have been it. Not to mention there was also the question of the memories he’d seen after getting caught up in the electricity…

...Was that… Was that its purpose, then? The electricity clearly wasn’t Vergil’s doing, if it hurt him that badly, and it couldn’t have been a reaction to the amulet- Vergil had been in a completely different room this time, and Dante himself used his own demonic magic fairly frequently without any issue. So then, was the electricity… Mundus’ doing, some sort of torture spell designed to keep Vergil obedient?

“Vergil?” Dante called out hesitantly, standing up and holding out his hands slightly, just in case Vergil were to fall over again. “Are you ok?”

Vergil looked at him, straight in the eyes, and Dante could tell something was different. The recognition was stronger in his gaze, and he turned toward him with purpose in his movements. Dante braced himself for whatever he was going to do, but was surprised when his brother put his hand on Dante’s head, roughly pushing his hair out of his face and back, and then did the same to his own hair in the motion that was so familiar to Dante.

“Hey, watch it dude, you pulled a little there!” Dante took hold of Vergil’s wrist to pry his hand off of his head, but it wouldn’t budge. “What are you doing?”

Vergil silently stared down at him for several moments before using his free hand to point at his face, then at Dante’s. Dante raised an eyebrow in question, and Vergil repeated the gesture, looking slightly annoyed that Dante hadn’t understood the first time. 

“Wha-- Oh. Oh.” Dante smiled, reaching out to put his own hand on Vergil’s head. “Yeah, Vergil. You’re my brother. We’re twins.”

* * *

He now had the answer to one of his questions. He and the man in red were brothers. That was why he affected Nelo Angelo in such a strange way, why he reacted to the man so strongly. Their blood, their souls called out to one another in a way Nelo Angelo had never seen nor experienced otherwise.

Nelo Angelo was aware of the plight of most demonic siblings in the Underworld. He had seen nestlings tear each other apart over food, blood, and slights to their pride. But the way the man in red had said the words just now had been full of a fondness that had never been expressed by anyone in Mundus’ court. And the smile on his face, also full of that emotion, caused an attempt at an equal response in Nelo Angelo. He lifted his hand from the man’s,  _ his brother’s _ , head, and gently, as gentle as he could be in this heavy armor, touched his face, tracing his brow, then his cheek, then his jaw, while running his other hand over the same places on his own face.

His brother’s smile widened, and the surge of emotion in Nelo Angelo grew so great that the hollowness in his chest ached once more. This was important, the man in front of him was so important, that he felt the need to protect-

_ Kill. _

The armor activated once more, and he jerked his hand away from the man’s face so as to not accidentally catch him in the punishment spell again. His rebellious thoughts had been detected, and he clenched his teeth as the blue lightning coursed across his body and his thoughts were invaded.

_ Kill. Kill him. _

No! He mustn’t! 

Nelo Angelo staggered backwards, curling his hands into fists to keep them from reaching for the man in red’s neck. He couldn’t lose control, not now! He had to keep resisting!

“Vergil!” His enemy, his brother called to him in worry, taking a step toward him. No no no he had to keep away! 

Nelo Angelo threw out a hand between them and let out a grunt of what he hoped conveyed warning. If he failed to stop himself, then the man would need to be on his guard.

_ Kill him. _

No!

_ Kill him. _

No! In all this time, that had never been what he truly wanted. And to do it now, under the orders of Mundus… would go against every instinct in his mind and soul.

The hand he had outstretched shook, and then a loud  _ SNAP!  _ rang throughout the room. The gauntlet on his hand had cracked down the middle, and moments later broke into pieces that fell to the floor and crumbled into dust.

Seconds passed as the punishment spell died down, unable to continue its attack on his mind as it continued to weaken, and Nelo Angelo and the man in red stared at his naked hand, the skin as gray-white as his face and also lined with blue veins. Slowly and in bewilderment, Nelo Angelo held up his freed hand in front of his face, flexing it and turning it back and forth. 

The man in red seemed to be in shock as well, but quickly recovered, excitement spreading across his face. “Vergil! Holy shit! I don’t know what the fuck just happened but I think it was a good thing!” He grabbed Nelo Angelo’s hand, and Nelo Angelo could feel the warmth of it.

“Look at this, bro,” his brother exclaimed, holding his hand tightly. “If we can figure out how to do that again, we’ll have you back to normal in no time! We can fix you, Vergil!”

Fix…? 

He felt a wave of unease come over him. The armor was meant to control him, he knew, but it also served as unparalleled protection and a major source of power. It had allowed him to withstand blows that would have easily destroyed lesser demons, and the strength it gave him had assisted his many victories in Mundus’ name. Without it, he would be free of the punishment spell, but… he would be weak. Useless. Worthless. And Mundus had no use for worthless things.

Mundus. His master. What would he do if -- _ when _ \-- he discovered Nelo Angelo’s acts of defiance? Would he decide that remolding Nelo Angelo to his will wasn’t worth it and discard him as he did with all of those who had failed him? Would he seek out the man in red to destroy him himself? 

Unease turned to cold fear in his gut. What was Nelo Angelo to do now?

* * *

The smile dropped from Dante’s face as he watched Vergil’s confusion turn to fear. Why was he so afraid? Shouldn’t he be as excited as Dante was? Instead he looked lost. What was wrong?

“Vergil? Hey, man, what’s wrong?” Dante questioned worriedly.

Vergil barely spared Dante a glance as his gaze flickered from his newly exposed hand to the pile of dust on the floor, all that remained of the broken gauntlet. Dante watched as Vergil fell to his knees and reached for the pile of dust, grabbing at it with frantic motions, slapping what little he could gather up onto his bare hand; A breeze blew through the hole in the wall, and Vergil’s eyes widened as the dust blew away along with it, scattering across the room.

“Oh, nice, now I don’t have to- Aw, shit,” Dante groaned as he saw Vergil stand up and reach for his sword. “C’mon, dude, I told you I’m not gonna… fight…”

Dante trailed off, as he realized that Vergil, to his shock, _ wasn’t t _ rying to fight him this time. He was just… Holding the sword, gripping it with a strength that made Dante’s stomach sink with worry- Holding a sword too tightly was counterproductive, so for Vergil to cling to it like that…

“H-Hey, it’s… It’s ok,” Dante insisted, speaking softly and reaching for his now-exposed hand. “I know what just happened was a little freaky, and uh, honestly I don’t really get it myself, but- This is good! Because that means that that part of the armor can’t hurt you anymore, right?” He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he squeezed Vergil’s hand. “And if that piece came off, then maybe we can get the rest of it to-”

Vergil shook his head, and looked up at Dante. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again with a frown. Instead of words, he gave a worried grunt; Dante didn’t know what Vergil was trying to say, but he at least understood the sense of urgency. Vergil’s grip on his sword tightened once more, and he turned his gaze towards the door, and then the hole in the wall, glancing back and forth between them- Even as part of him still seemed intrigued by his hand.

Was he… Watching for intruders? Was that it, then? Was Vergil afraid that Mundus was going to come after him? That would certainly explain the fear in his eyes, Dante realized, something that pained him to think about.

“Vergil… Are you worried that Mundus is going to be angry with you?” he asked quietly.

Vergil nodded, and the gesture was so resolute that Dante got the sense he wasn’t just answering the question, but indicating that yes, Mundus  _ was _ going to be angry. So Dante’s assumption had been right.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about him, alright? We’re pretty far from Mallet Island, and I mean… We- We can take him, yeah?”

Vergil looked at Dante as if this was the most absurd statement he’d ever heard in his life, and shook his head once more.

Dante gave a half-hearted laugh. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a pessimist! You and me together? Mundus doesn’t… He doesn’t…”

Dante trailed off once again, his face falling as he realized that his attempts at playing it cool weren’t doing anything to reassure Vergil. Vergil continued to shake his head, staring at Dante with a look of fear, and… Sorrow.

Dante bit his lip, and drew in a sharp breath.

Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, gently pressing his forehead against the breastplate of Vergil’s armor as he continued to hold his hand, brushing his thumb gently across the cool, chapped skin.

“Listen to me. I swear to you, bro, I’m not going to let Mundus hurt you,” he said quietly. “Not again. Not ever. I don’t care what it takes, you’re safe here. I promise you that.”

* * *

Nelo Angelo almost laughed at the man in red’s declaration. He sounded so sincere, yet he did not seem to realize what and who exactly he was up against. How could Nelo Angelo properly convey the vast might of the emperor of the Underworld? There had only ever been one who could stand against Mundus, and he had long since disappeared.

But nonetheless, he appreciated his brother’s attempts to reassure him. He raised his other, still-armored hand and rested it on the man’s back to show his gratitude, and was rewarded with a content-sounding sigh and the man’s other arm wrapping around his waist to embrace him. Nelo Angelo closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Was this what it was like for humans? Did they all so freely give and receive comfort from those around them? Was this truly the weakness that Mundus had disparaged? If so, what was causing the hollowness in his chest to howl so mightily? Why did he feel like he could defeat a horde of enemies with his brother by his side like this?

And there would certainly be a horde, once Emperor Mundus discovered what was occurring.

His master had told him, at the beginning of his service, that to follow him was what he was made for, the greatest euphoria any being could aspire to. And there had been times where, as he engaged enemies of the Underworld’s ruler, he had felt a joy in cutting down his opponents and crushing them with his power, Mundus’ power. Yet the more he dwelled on it or rather, was allowed to dwell on it, the more he wondered if that feeling came more from the thrill of battle itself than from knowing he did so in Mundus’ name. There was also the looming knowledge that his master would not suffer the extent of rebellion that Nelo Angelo had perpetrated, nor his brother to continue living.

Despite only having met the man in red recently, Nelo Angelo knew instinctively that the call of his blood and soul was not a lie and the man was his twin. His twin, who so easily accepted him despite knowing of his conflicting loyalty and pledged to protect the demon who had been so determined to fulfill his orders and kill him. Nelo Angelo was not sure what exactly had happened to cause his master and his brother to despise each other so, but it was obvious that the man had arrived on Mallet Island with the intent to destroy Mundus. Only one of them would leave alive: his master free to subjugate the human world, or his brother bold in victory.

Nelo Angelo had stayed this long to seek answers, and now that he had the first one, he found his curiosity not sated but piqued, and he realized that the moment he was experiencing now, of clear-minded thought and sincere care from another, was something he wanted to experience not just now, but as an essential and continuous part of his existence. 

It seemed, then, that the decision was already made for him. He would remain here, defy his master, and see to it that his brother was properly prepared to face what eventually awaited them. There was no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	4. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> People die when they are killed, Dante. Also, thank you to our dear friend Brynne for helping us get through some writer's block via a bizarre spontaneous pizza-themed RPG.
> 
> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> *looks at word count* haha what *looks at days since last chapter* haha what

Vergil was asleep on the couch.

_ Vergil.  _ Was _ asleep.  _ On the  _ couch. _

Dante could hardly believe what was going on- He almost would’ve thought it was all a dream, but he could feel just how very real it was as he held Vergil’s now-unarmored left hand in his own. In his other hand he held a magazine, but he wasn’t paying attention to it, not really; How could he? He was far too distracted.

Vergil had fallen asleep not long after the incident with the exploding gauntlet. Which Dante couldn’t blame him for- After everything he’d been through in the past day or two (especially the repeated magic torture), it wasn’t surprising that he was exhausted. Frankly, Dante was a little bit surprised that he himself wasn’t, all things considered, yet somehow he felt quite the opposite. 

Dante felt more energetic than he had in a long time. Everything was happening, like, so much, and Dante didn’t want to miss a second of it.  _ Vergil _ was here! He was  _ alive,  _ and not trying to open any portals to the Underworld or kill Dante or- Or, well, he wasn’t trying to kill Dante at the moment, but- Dante just couldn’t believe it! He felt so full of energy, like he needed to- To do… Something, to scream or stab something or… He didn’t really know. Normally he might play some music, or take his bike for a spin, but he didn’t want to wake Vergil up (and was lowkey scared that if he left Vergil alone in the shop, one of those two things would not be there when he got back), so instead he just… Sat. Vibrating slightly. Was that normal? Whatever. 

...He probably should have been exhausted, he realized, considering everything he’d been through, but… Eh, whatever. He was a demon, right? Demons didn’t need to sleep. Much. He’d already passed out for a bit earlier, it was fine. He felt great! Everything was going very fast. He opened his fourth bottle of tomato juice and took a swig, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. One thing wasn’t going fast enough, though. Where the hell was that pizza he had ordered what felt like days ago?

There was a knock at the door. Perfect timing!

Dante hopped up and practically skipped to answer the door, swinging it wide without thinking. Maybe he looked more like shit than he expected, because the pizza guy looked at him, glanced over his shoulder into the office, dropped the pizza, and booked it back to his delivery van with a shriek of “ _ HOLY SHIT! _ ” Dante frowned and grabbed the pizza off of the ground. It had fallen upside down, but since it was mostly still inside the box it should be fine. And hey! He didn’t have to worry about paying for it this time, and free pizza was always good pizza.

He placed the box right-side-up on his desk and opened it, breathing in that hot, fresh, cheesy scent and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. It didn’t matter how much shit he got from Lady about eating it all the time, pizza was truly the perfect food. He reverently picked up a slice and took a big bite, humming in delight. Absolute heaven.

Dante sat down in his chair and kicked his feet up, enjoying his… breakfast? Brunch? Linner? Whichever, his meal. His eyes inevitably fell on his brother, and he chewed thoughtfully. It would probably be good to let Vergil rest a while longer before waking him up to eat. Wait, did he even need to eat with the way he was right now? Dante himself didn’t really need to eat on a regular basis as long as he obtained energy from somewhere, like absorbing it from the demons he fought; he just really liked to because food, especially pizza and strawberry sundaes, was delicious. There wasn’t human food in the Underworld, but there were shit tons of demons, so maybe Vergil just did the energy absorption thing too? 

He was probably overthinking it. Whether or not Vergil  _ needed _ to eat, he definitely deserved something that wasn’t demon essence or whatever for a “welcome home” meal. So he was going to have to save a few slices… Maybe he should have ordered two pizzas instead of just one.

As Dante lifted up his pizza for another bite, a certain clanging sound caught his attention. He glanced up and found Vergil staring at him from the couch. Dante stared back for a moment, still a little unsure the whole thing was even real, and then broke out into a wide grin.

“Heeey, bro! How was your nap?” he called out cheerfully.

Vergil did not initially react, continuing to stare at Dante with a thoughtful look; Dante somehow got the sense that Vergil, too, was in slight disbelief over the day’s events. Still, Vergil didn’t seem like he was having second thoughts, to Dante’s relief. He watched as Vergil’s gaze flickered from Dante’s face, to the pizza in his hands.

“Want some?” Dante asked through a mouthful of pizza, waving the now half-eaten slice around for emphasis. Vergil raised an eyebrow in confusion, but Dante paid this no mind as he hopped out of his chair and grabbed the box of pizza, carrying it over to the couch.

Vergil glanced back and forth between Dante and the pizza box, a thoughtful look on his face. He reached towards the box as if to take a slice, and then paused, pulling his hand back again and glancing towards Dante with a confused frown; Dante frowned back. Did Vergil… Not know what pizza was for? Did he not understand how to pizza? Damn, he really  _ was  _ fucked up, Dante realized, if he lacked the core human instinct of Pizza.

“It’s just pizza, dude,” Dante explained. “It’s food! Really good food! Go ahead, try it!”

Vergil raised an eyebrow at Dante, and turned his attention back towards the pizza. He continued to stare at it for a moment, and… To Dante’s shock, began hesitantly picking off the toppings, one by one.

Dante gave a snort of disbelief. “What’re you doing that for?! The toppings are the best part! C’mon, man, don’t do pizza dirty like that!”

Once again, Vergil gave Dante a confused look. Dante sighed, and held up his own slice of pizza.

“Look, see? Eat ‘em. They’re good.” He demonstrated by taking another bite, taking a moment to (barely) exaggeratedly savor the pizza’s cheesy goodness.

Vergil gave a resolute nod, and picked up his own half-empty slice of pizza, carefully mimicking Dante’s motions. As he took his first bite, he blinked, making a face that reminded Dante rather of a startled cat.

Dante held back a laugh. “What do you think? Good, right?”

Vergil did not respond at first, holding up his slice of pizza and staring at it with wide eyes and an uncertain expression. Dante watched Vergil’s expression shift rapidly- Whatever the opposite of the five stages of grief was, Vergil was clearly going through it. Five stages of pizza? (It was true that pizza, in Dante’s experience, often proved to be the opposite of grief.)

Dante found himself breaking out into a grin as he watched Vergil chew his pizza thoughtfully.

“Man, this is… This is great!” Dante exclaimed, with a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “You and me, just hanging out, not trying to kill each other, eating pizza… I mean, god, when was the last time we did something like this? What, twenty years ago? Feels like it’s been forever.”

Vergil tilted his head at that, giving Dante a questioning look. Dante stared back at him for a moment or two, and then continued, a little bit more hesitantly.

“...You know, back when… When I thought you were dead,” he paused, biting his lip slightly, “I used to think about this kind of thing a lot. Just dumb daydreams, you know, but I always kinda used to think about like- What if we’d stayed together? What if you hadn’t-”

Dante stopped mid-sentence as he noticed the look on Vergil’s face: Confused, and sad. He looked… lost.

Dante’s face fell.

“You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Dante realized quietly.

Vergil shook his head slowly, glancing down in shame. He hesitantly reached for Dante’s hand, squeezing it gently as if to say sorry.

Dante squeezed back, and gave Vergil a sympathetic look. “Hey, that’s ok! Don’t worry about it, alright? You take your time, dude. I’m just glad you’re here. That’s what really matters, so don’t beat yourself up over it, yeah?”

Vergil watched Dante for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Dante frowned, but said nothing; It seemed it would be best to leave Vergil alone for the moment. And more importantly, his pizza wasn’t going to eat itself.

After several moments, his brother continued eating as well, his expression wavering between contemplation and frustration. As Vergil finished his slice, his mouth was drawn in a line and he glared down at the grease on his hands before wiping it on the couch. 

“Ohh, you don’t like the grease?” Dante asked in realization, deciding to not worry about his poor couch for now. “If you ask me it’s all part of the experience, but I can grab some napkins if you wanna give it a patdown, bro. Just give me a sec.” He got up and opened the door to the kitchen, grabbing the roll of paper towels and setting it on the desk before ripping off a few pieces. He held up another slice of pizza and gently patted and wiped off the excess grease, silently mourning the loss of flavor, before taking a bite. “Do it just like I did, and we’ll see if you like it more then.” 

Gingerly picking up another piece of pizza and taking a paper towel that Dante handed him, Vergil did his best to imitate Dante’s method, and then bit into his grease-lite piece. After finishing it, he looked up at Dante and nodded, a tiny smile curving up the corners of his lips. Jackpot! Vergil liked pizza!

But now he was getting up and looking toward the doorway leading into the kitchen, glancing back at Dante as if asking permission to go in. 

Dante nodded and sat back on the couch, avoiding the grease spot. “Go ahead and check it out dude, just don’t go breaking anything. Appliances are expensive as hell.”

With that, Vergil clomped his way into the kitchen, and Dante relaxed into the couch cushions as he reached for the pizza box to see how many slices were left.

As Dante reached for the second-to-last slice, he heard the creaking of a door- Not the kitchen door, this time, but rather the front door. He glanced up to find a familiar brunette sauntering into the shop as if she owned it.

“Hey, Dante! What’s going on in here?” Lady called out, frowning at Dante.

Dante blinked. “Whaddya mean? I’m eatin’ pizza, that’s what,” he replied through a mouthful of food, and pointed to the box. “You want some?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lady replied with an eyeroll as she sat down next to him. “Whatever happened to the whole Mallet Island thing? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she said, and the “if at all” went unspoken.

“Uh… It’s- It’s a long story. Suffice it to say I’m on something of a sidequest right now,” Dante explained awkwardly.

Lady raised an eyebrow. “Um, ok..? More importantly, the hell did you do to Jimmy from the pizza place over on Fourth Ave? Idiot was freaking out, nearly ran me over, and when I complained about it he shouted something about a white-haired demon at your place.  _ What  _ the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Dante insisted, putting his hands up in surrender. “Uh, but anyway, listen. There’s something you should-”

Lady’s expression suddenly shifted to one Dante knew all too well, and he barely had time to react before his sentence was cut off by a series of gunshots, followed immediately by loud, rapid clanking and an angry growl.

“Woah! Hey! The hell’s going on?!” Dante exclaimed in disbelief.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Lady grunted through her teeth as she swung Kalina Ann around, the bayonet colliding hard with Vergil’s sword. “Been leaving the kitchen window unlocked, Dante?”

“Hey, hold on a minute-”

Dante’s objections were drowned out by the sound of more gunshots, and he blinked and frowned in irritation as several bullet casings bounced onto him. He watched with wide eyes as Vergil took an overhead swing at Lady, one she just barely managed to jump back in time to avoid.

“Why are you just sitting there? Help me out, would you?!” she snapped at Dante.

“Because, I- Would you two just listen to me for a second?!” Dante blurted out.

They would not.

Vergil stepped back, and laughed, motioning for Lady to come attack him.

Lady gave a bitter laugh in return. “Cocky bastard, huh? I’m good where I am, thanks,” she said casually, and with a flick of her finger, the grappling wire on Kalina Ann shot forward. Vergil gave a startled gasp as it wrapped around his elbow, pulling him off-balance for just a moment- But not long enough, as he grabbed the rope with his other hand and swung it hard, pulling Lady into the coffee table with a crash.

_ “Guys!” _

“Alright, I’m getting sick of you! It’s time to end this!” Lady announced, and Dante watched in horror as she jumped back, planted her feet, steadied Kalina Ann on her shoulder, and-

**_“That’s… Enough!”_ ** Dante snapped, a red surge of magic energy surrounding him as he planted himself between Lady and Vergil. He snatched the missile from the air with clawed hands, and threw it to the ground with an irritated growl, shooting Lady a glare.  **_“Are you trying to take the whole damn place out?! It’s bad enough there’s already one giant hole in the wall!”_ **

“But I-”

**_“And YOU,”_ ** Dante continued, turning around to direct his irritation at Vergil.  **_“You could’ve fuckin’ killed her!”_ **

Vergil shrugged, and gave Dante a confused look, as if he wasn’t sure what the problem was.

Dante growled, an angry burst of flame rising from his chest.  **_“Both of you sit your stupid asses the fuck down. Now.”_ **

“Alright, alright, geez,” Lady grumbled, putting her hands up in surrender and flopping down on the couch. “But you better tell me what’s- Ew, why is the couch greasy?! Dante!” she shrieked.

Vergil hesitated for a moment, but after Dante’s intense glare continued, he sighed and reluctantly sat down where he was.

With a huff, Dante reverted to his human form- But not without pointing a finger in warning at both of them in turn. “Don’t you try anything,” he grumbled.

“I get it already!” Lady complained, as Vergil gave a frustrated whine. “...Also, uh… Are you like, ok? You don’t look so good.”

“Not really! My best friend and my brother just tried to kill each other and destroy my shop in the process! It’s kind of ruining my day!”

“Wait wait, hold on. Your brother?!” Lady pointed at Vergil, who glared back at her. “That thing is your brother?”

“Don’t call him a thing! He may have been fucked up by Mundus but he’s still Vergil!”

“Dante what the fuck is going on? Why do you think he’s Vergil? I thought Vergil was dead, you said he fell off that cliff into the Underworld-”

“I thought he was dead. That he couldn’t have survived that fall. But he did, and the goddamn ruler of all demons got to him and-” Dante stopped, choking up. He took a deep breath and started again. “But I found him, and I brought him home, and I’m gonna make things right between us.” He looked over at Vergil, who was glancing between the two of them in confusion. “It’s not gonna be easy, but I’m gonna get him back to normal.”

* * *

Nelo Angelo held back a growl. This human, this woman, had trespassed in his brother’s territory and attacked him, and Nelo Angelo had only sought to defend himself and his brother’s honor. And maybe he also was eager to fight someone willing, but even so! But despite his annoyance at the interruption, he respected the man’s wishes and halted his attack. It seemed the woman knew better than to keep going as well, though she appeared even less happy than Nelo Angelo about it. And she called him… Dante.

_ Dante _ .

_ His brother’s name was Dante. _

Such a simple, basic piece of knowledge, but it seemed his master would not allow him to have it, because the punishment spell activated moments after the thought solidified in his mind. Nelo Angelo grit his teeth as the blue lightning wracked his body. Just because the spell was steadily getting weaker didn’t mean it wasn’t still incredibly painful. 

“Vergil!” Ah, that name again. The one his brother,  _ Dante _ , called him consistently. Dante, who was running toward him in a panic, was thoughtlessly reaching out for him-

Nelo Angelo took a step back before seizing up again. No, Dante didn’t deserve to be caught up in this again! But his brother grabbed on to him regardless, and they went tumbling down together.

* * *

Vergil sniffed at the air as he entered the room, searching for traces of his quarry. Not that there was any point to doing so, of course, but he enjoyed the drama of it. 

“I know you’re in here, Dante.”

Hide-and-Seek was an interesting game. Vergil liked to pretend that he was a monster hunter from one of Father’s old storybooks, stalking a demon that had been terrorizing the innocent residents of a small village. This particular demon was clever- But not clever enough. 

“Found you!” Vergil declared triumphantly as he threw open the closet door. Dante shrieked, and then giggled, tumbling out onto Vergil. 

“Vergil! How’d you find me?!” he laughed.

Vergil scoffed as he pushed Dante off of him. “We’re twins, duh. I can always find you. And you always find me.”

“Oh yeah.” Dante blinked, and rolled backwards, hopping onto his feet. “Hide-and-Seek’s boring. Wanna play swords instead?”

“Sure, ok,” Vergil replied with a shrug. 

Dante flashed a toothy grin. “Last one outside has to be the bad guy!”

“Fine, get ready to lose!” Vergil shouted as he dashed after Dante, their thundering footsteps echoing like a storm through the halls of the old manor.

* * *

His twin’s name was Dante, and his own name was Vergil.

But did he still deserve to be called that, by himself or others? 

Whoever he had been before had faltered in the face of Mundus’ power and submitted under torture, and all that was left was Nelo Angelo. He was a servant of the emperor of the Underworld, a broken puppet, a demon so far removed from the (human?) child he had seen in that memory. 

Even if Dante succeeded in defeating Mundus and freeing him, would Nelo Angelo be worthy to reclaim his name?

The pain came back with force in another attempt to purge his mind, but Nelo Angelo would not allow it. He focused on the sound of his brother’s young voice, the happiness in his smile, the feeling of security that came with being near his twin. He would not let it slip away any further!

Distantly, he heard something crack.

Even if he didn’t deserve any of it, he wanted to see Dante’s carefree smile again, wanted to experience that soft, safe feeling again. Wanted to be protected and… 

“Hey! Dante! Wake up, Dante!”

As the spell receded, any relief that Nelo Angelo might have felt was replaced with annoyance at the sound of the woman’s voice, which had interrupted his train of thought. He had been thinking of something important…

But there was something else important he had to attend to. The woman was standing over himself and his brother, shaking Dante with a concerned look on her face and continuing to yell.

“Dante, get the fuck up!” She noticed Nelo Angelo staring at her and glowered at him. “What the hell did you do to him?! What the fuck was that?”

Nelo Angelo did not have the patience for this, but since Dante, infuriatingly, didn’t want them to continue fighting, there was little he could do about her presence. Instead he put his remaining energy into raising himself into a sitting position on the floor. Dante was unconscious, half-lying on him. He had surely been hit hard by the punishment spell, his weakened state a result of lack of proper rest and sleep since the last time. Was the reason why he had grabbed onto Nelo Angelo despite knowing the consequences due to that as well? Surely Dante was not so foolish to think that making an attempt to share the pain was a good idea.

But it was no matter. What he needed now was to not be on the floor. His own body felt incredibly heavy, but Nelo Angelo struggled to his knees regardless, gathering up his brother in his arms. The woman drew her gun as he got up, but it seemed her concern for Dante was greater than her disdain for him. She watched, gun still drawn but pointed down, as he carried Dante over to the couch and retrieved the blanket, draping it over him. Nelo Angelo allowed himself to finally collapse on the floor next to his brother, his limbs aching, and the woman pointed her gun at him once more. He sneered. What a pathetic weapon. If she really planned on killing him, she should pick up a blade and do it properly.

With that thought, and his breathing heavy, Nelo Angelo reached over with his unarmored hand to take one of Dante’s and finally allowed himself to rest.

* * *

Lady had seen a lot of weird, unsettling, downright horrifying shit in her time. She  _ was  _ a devil hunter, after all- Bizarre experiences were just part of the job, and she’d long since grown used to them, especially where Dante was concerned. All the freaky little quirks of his that came with being half demon barely fazed her anymore, but this… This was something else entirely. And, frankly, she’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t at least a little bit shaken.

When Dante had called to tell her that he was going off to fight the demon who destroyed his childhood home and killed his mother, she’d been both happy for him, and terrified. Mundus, she knew, was no ordinary demon; Both Lady and Dante were well aware that he’d likely be gone for quite some time, and that there was a significantly less than zero chance that he wouldn’t be coming back at all. She’d been prepared to treat Dante in celebration when he finally hit the jackpot, and she’d been prepared to take a solemn drive down to Redgrave City and mark a grave for him, should things go south.

What she had  _ not _ been even slightly prepared for, however, was whatever the fuck was going on now.

It had only been… What, two, three days since Dante had left? And here he was, looking like absolute shit and eating pizza as per fucking usual, accompanied by what had to be the ugliest humanoid demon Lady had ever seen (and that was saying a lot). And Dante claimed the demon in question was his  _ brother?  _ His brother, who had died the same day Lady first met Dante? 

Unfortunately for Lady, Dante wasn’t able to explain his claims- Because shortly after he’d made them, the demon in question had inexplicably started sparking with blue electricity, and Dante had grabbed onto him, the lightning rendering them both unconscious on the floor. Even stranger still was the fact that the demon, Dante’s so-called “brother”, had apparently taken the time before passing out completely to… Carry Dante over to the couch and tuck him in with a blanket?

What the fuck?

Lady let out a long, tense sigh, and slowly lowered her gun, keeping a careful eye on “Vergil”.

There wasn’t a lot that Lady knew about Dante’s elusive and quite dead twin brother. She’d only ever met the guy once, during which time he’d tried to kill Dante, something that was apparently a fairly normal occurrence. Dante rarely spoke of him; When he did, it was usually quiet, brief, solemn mentions, sometimes little more than cryptic allusions to his existence. It was clear that Dante held a lot of guilt regarding Vergil’s death, and he often became reclusive and moody around two particular dates- Namely, the anniversary of the Temen-ni-Gru incident, and the anniversary of the day Dante’s childhood home had been burned to the ground by demons. Lady had seen him break down over the subject more than once.

...Although, she realized, it was true that there hadn’t exactly been a body for Dante to bring home. If Vergil was anything like his brother, and especially considering he’d apparently already survived one supposed “death”, it… Wasn’t exactly a complete impossibility that he’d survived. Maybe.

But Lady still didn’t understand why the hell the demon currently passed out on the floor would be Vergil.

Still holding her gun, Lady glanced carefully over at the unconscious demon. Now that she looked at it, his face  _ did  _ kind of look like Dante’s, albeit pretty fucked up… And he certainly seemed like an asshole, taunting Lady and sneering at her for no good reason, something that seemed to line up with what little she’d heard about Vergil. What stood out as really unusual to her, oddly enough, was the fact that he’d seemed so weirdly… Affectionate with Dante. She’d always gotten the sense that Vergil had been a rather cold person, and while she knew Dante loved him despite their issues, he didn’t like Dante very much- So why would he care for him now? And it wasn’t typical demon behavior, either, not by a long shot. Maybe it was some sort of trick? Dante had certainly seemed out of it when she’d spoken to him.

If this really was nothing more than a demon manipulating Dante, Lady was going to be damn sure to kill him. Slowly, and painfully. To take advantage of Dante’s grief… There were certain lows she didn’t think even demons would sink to.

Not wanting to let her guard down, Lady went and sat on Dante’s desk to keep watch over the two, pistol at the ready in case “Vergil” tried anything. Neither of them stirred for what felt like ages, though when Lady dared to take a glance at her watch she saw it had only been just under two hours. Eventually, the demon sitting by the couch grunted and opened his eyes, and by the irritation on his face she could tell he had expected her to be gone by now. 

“Sorry, pal,” she retorted. “I’m not leaving you alone with Dante. Now, tell me who you really are.”

He didn’t reply, instead looking down his nose at her and raising his chin haughtily. What a pretentious prick of a demon. He then decided to ignore her completely and leaned over Dante, causing her to go on alert.

“What are you about to do?” she demanded, aiming the gun at his head. He immediately whirled on her, holding up a hand and using the other to point at Dante meaningfully. He then brought a finger up to his lips. He wanted her to be quiet. Whatever, fine.

“What are you about to do?” she whispered aggressively. He went back to ignoring her, taking Dante’s hand in his unarmored one again and laying the other over Dante’s heart. After a few moments, he seemed satisfied and withdrew that hand and resumed sitting on the floor. What the hell! Did he think Dante was dead or something?

“Hey,” Lady hissed in a low tone. “Just who the hell are you, anyway?”

The demon glanced briefly up at Lady, raised an eyebrow in clear irritation, and turned his attention back towards Dante.

Lady gritted her teeth and raised her gun once again. “I asked you a question,” she snarled. Once again, the demon did not respond, and instead simply rolled his eyes at her. 

Lady scowled. Just who the hell did this guy think he was? And… Why was he so fixated on Dante, anyway? Did he  _ actually _ care about Dante? It didn’t make any sense. Was it all just an act, a trick to lull her and Dante into a false sense of security?

...There was one way to find out, she realized. It was a risky gamble, but… She had to know for certain.

“If you won’t answer my questions, then…” Lady looked the demon in the eye, and turned her gun on Dante.

Immediately, the demon stood up, growling in anger. Lady‘s eyes widened as he stomped towards her and, before she could react, ripped the gun from her hands and threw it to the ground. She reflexively reached towards it- But not before the demon stomped on it hard, crushing the gun’s barrel under the weight of his armored heel. 

The demon gave one last snarl, shoved Lady backwards as a warning, and stomped back over to the couch, once again taking Dante’s hand in his own and staring at Lady with an acid glare. He kept his eyes on her as he slowly yet very pointedly picked up his broadsword in his free hand, holding it quietly at his side. 

Well, that certainly proved something. Whatever or whoever this demon was, he actually cared about Dante in some way. But was he  _ actually  _ Dante’s long-lost brother? Or was he something else? And, if so… What?

“So you  _ do  _ care about him,” Lady observed. “Don’t worry- I wouldn’t really shoot Dante. I just had to be sure for myself.”

The demon seemed surprised by this, glancing at Lady with… Curiousity? After a moment, he gave a curt nod, and gently laid down his sword- Though he still kept it within arm’s reach.

“There’s one thing I don’t get, though: If you care about Dante so much, why the hell did you electrocute him?”

The demon sighed, and shook his head in dismay. He pointed at Dante, and then made a beckoning gesture towards himself, before finally rolling his eyes and shaking his head once again. He glanced over at Dante with a concerned frown.

The hell did that mean..?

Lady raised an eyebrow. “Not much of a talker, are you?” she said sarcastically. The demon, rather predictably, gave no reply. “Alright, I’ll take that as a no.”

If he refused to say anything, then it seemed like they were at an impasse until Dante woke up. Great. Lady could only hope that once Dante woke up, he’d explain just what the hell was going on.

With an irritated sigh, she sat down in the desk chair, leaned back, and stared idly at the weapons on the wall as she began the long wait for Dante to wake up.

* * *

Dante was still asleep. Nelo Angelo supposed he needed it, given that he had not appeared to get any true rest in a while, and had been hurt by the punishment spell twice in the last day. So Nelo Angelo sat next to him, ready for any possible threats to his brother.

The monotony of guard duty wasn’t particularly new to him. When he wasn’t out on a mission for his master, Mundus would occasionally have him stand guard in his throne room, though more as a show of loyalty than anything else. If there were any actual enemies on their way to attempt an attack on the demon emperor, Nelo Angelo would be sent out to destroy it, not wait until they reached the throne room. 

But this was a far cry from Mundus’ palace in the Underworld, and the one he was meant to protect was, in many ways, the opposite of Mundus in Nelo Angelo’s eyes. His master was always immaculate, majestic, powerful, and always willing to demonstrate how above the rest of the Underworld he was. Even when alone with him, Nelo Angelo felt that there was a distance between them that he could never reach across, and he was wary to try.

Dante… was a human. Was his brother, in the most human meaning of the word. Despite the demonic strength he had shown on Mallet Island, he looked as fragile as a human nestling lying there asleep. In fact, he looked somewhat awful, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a mess. He looked a little bit less pale, though, which was probably a good sign. There was also the closeness they currently shared, not only in proximity but in that Nelo Angelo was holding tightly to Dante’s hand. Dante had done so for him not too long ago, and it was clearly meant as a gesture of affection. Nelo Angelo didn’t really understand it, but surely it would be of some comfort to his brother if he returned the favor.

At least, that was what he hoped. Affection and comfort were unheard of concepts in the Underworld, seen only as weaknesses, something to be mocked and exploited- And as a result, Nelo Angelo had no idea how to express them. If he’d ever had any such human habits, they had long since been beaten out of him by his master’s torture. All he could do now was mimic his brother, and hope the gesture would be understood.

* * *

Dante felt himself coming awake, and immediately closed his eyes tighter in an attempt to fall back asleep. He was feeling… better? At least better compared to before he was knocked out. But sleep was nice when he didn’t have nightmares and really, who could blame him for wanting to nap a little longer? As he shifted to move into a more comfortable position on his side, he felt his hand tug on something. He cracked open an eye to see what it was and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the glowing red eyes hovering over him. Then they pulled back, and Dante was greeted with his brother’s gray-white face and the ceiling above them. 

“Holy shit, Vergil, don’t do that,” he groaned, dragging his free hand over his face. “You scared the hell out of me, man.” Dante felt a gentle tug on his occupied hand, and glanced down to see Vergil’s unarmored hand in his. He looked up at Vergil in surprise and met his brother’s slightly apologetic gaze. Had he held Dante’s hand the whole time he was out? A soft, hopeful feeling welled up in his heart. Maybe they were starting to get somewhere...

“You awake? Finally!” came Lady’s voice, and Dante turned his head to see her sitting at his desk, looking bored to tears. “Now you can explain just what the hell is going on here.”

Dante noticed Vergil shooting Lady a rather irritated glare; This, however, did not seem to dissuade her from hopping to her feet and walking over to the couch, sitting casually on the coffee table and gesturing in Vergil’s general direction. “What’s the deal?”

“I already told you,” Dante replied flatly.

“No, you rambled some weird emotional shit at me while probably delirious from lack of sleep. I’m asking you just what the hell happened on Mallet Island.”

Dante hesitated, glancing over at Vergil and biting his lip slightly. He knew Lady had a point- And, frankly, he’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t in desperate need of the chance to talk about the situation with someone sane (Or… more sane than Vergil, anyway, as the case may have been)- But he couldn’t help but question whether it was really a good idea to explain things with Vergil present. Considering how little Vergil remembered of their… decidedly rocky past, as well as what happened every time he began to remember something, maybe it was best not to dump all  _ that  _ on Vergil just yet. Besides, the thought of how he might react to Dante after regaining those memories was… worrisome to say the least. Would he be as willing to listen to and stay with Dante once he remembered how they had parted?

Putting that last thought out of his mind as best he could for now, Dante turned towards Vergil. “Alright, dude. You mind, uh… keeping an eye on things here while I talk with Lady in the kitchen?” he tried, hoping to appeal to Vergil’s new protectiveness. 

Vergil frowned at this. He glanced from Dante, to Lady, and then back again, pointing at Lady and raising an eyebrow as if the very concept was baffling to him.

“Hey! Don’t be rude!” Dante retorted, genuinely offended. “Lady’s my friend! She’s not just some random human, you know? She’s cool. She’s my partner in crime.”

“I’d say it’s more like I’m the dashing hero, and you’re the pretty sidekick,” Lady commented.

Dante grinned, giving a casual shrug. “Maybe. But the point still stands.”

Vergil’s gaze softened, and he nodded in understanding. He stared at Dante for a moment, and Dante frowned slightly- What was that emotion on Vergil’s face? He seemed almost… Hurt? Yet after a moment, Vergil gave a resolute nod, and gently let go of Dante’s hand. In its place he picked up his sword, stood up, faced the door, and… planted his sword firmly in the floor.

God, Dante was really going to have to talk to him about not doing that.

Sighing, he headed into the kitchen with Lady right behind him and closed the door behind them. “Okay, where do you want me to start?”

Lady hopped up on the counter and crossed her arms. “The beginning, I guess. What happened when you got to Mallet Island?”

“Trish and I got off the boat and split up, and I started exploring this big-ass castle that took up most of the island. You know how Temen-ni-gru had all those weird puzzles and shit you had to do in order to go further in? It was like that. Don’t know why demons like puzzles so much, it’s really annoying. Anyway, after a certain point I wind up in this fancy room with a big mirror, and my reflection walks out of the mirror all dramatically and turns into this huge demon knight, and I’m pretty impressed by the dude wanting to be honorable and take the fight outside. So we do and he’s pretty strong and puts up a good fight, and he may or may not have had me on the ropes for a second there, but then he saw my amulet that my mother gave me and started freaking out.”   
  
“The one your brother tried to take from you to open the portal?” Lady recalled in surprise. “That’s…”

Dante nodded. “I know.”

“So then what happened?”   
  
“Well, when he freaked out, that blue lightning started zapping him and then he disappeared, like he got teleported somewhere else. So I keep goin’ through the castle and I start wondering what the deal is, because he seems really familiar, and given his reaction to the amulet I start to think ‘What if he’s Vergil?’ and yeah, sure, maybe I didn’t have any proof, but I just- I _ knew,  _ you know? Like, he’s my brother. We’re twins. Of course I knew it was him. And I couldn’t just fuckin’ leave him there, so- So I-”

“So you..?” Lady prompted. Dante fidgeted nervously for a moment before answering.

“...So I... impulsively knocked him out and dumped him on a ghost pirate ship and dragged him back to the shop.”

Lady gawked. _ “Dante!” _

“I know, I know! But god, what else was I supposed to do?! Yeah, it was a terrible idea, but-” Dante threw his hands up with a grunt of exasperation. “Look, one way or another, he’s here now. You asked what happened, so I told you. I can’t fuckin’ time travel, so don’t get on my ass about it, ok?”

Lady stared at Dante for a moment, and then her gaze softened with sympathy. “You could have at least called me first,” she said quietly. “We could have talked it out, planned ahead a bit more.”

Dante sighed. “I appreciate the thought, but there aren’t exactly a ton of phone booths on Evil Demon King Island.”

“Fair point.” Lady paused. “...Wait, what was that about a ghost pirate ship?”

“I’ve had a weird week, dude.”

“No kidding.”

The kitchen fell silent for a moment as Lady contemplated what Dante had told her. She glanced towards the doorway, as if to make sure Vergil wasn’t listening.

“What… What  _ happened  _ to him?” she wondered quietly. “I mean I’m not surprised he’s working with Mundus, but-”

“He didn’t do it willingly!” Dante interrupted, and shook his head. “Vergil would never. Not after what happened to our mother. Sure, he’s an asshole, but… He wouldn’t do that.”

“Right. Sorry,” Lady apologized in a quiet mutter. “But so then, why _ is _ he working for Mundus? And why does he seem so… Messed up? He’s nothing at all like what I remember. Or how you always described him,” she pointed out with a frown.

Dante slumped back against the wall. 

“Torture,” he whispered, and his throat felt dry as he recalled the horrors he’d seen; Lady’s eyes went wide and her face pale, understanding enough from just one word and the look on Dante’s face.

“Torture?”

Dante nodded. “Yeah. He- Mundus messed him up real bad, Lady. I saw it. He-”

“What do you mean, you ‘saw’ it?” Lady interrupted in surprise. 

“You know how that fucked up blue lightning knocked us both out? Well, it happened before, a while before you arrived. I touched Vergil when it activated, and I was pulled into some kind of flashback or memory or something. He…” Dante stopped, glancing at the door. Vergil probably wouldn’t want anyone to know all of the painful details. “He didn’t die when he fell into the Underworld. From what I saw, he tried to fight Mundus and lost, and then Mundus… tortured him until he became that. He didn’t want this.”

“Oh… I’m...sorry, Dante.” Lady hopped off the counter and put a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “Even he doesn’t deserve  _ that _ .” Dante leaned into her hand, and gratefully accepted when Lady decided to pull him into a hug. “Did you see anything else this time?”

Dante nodded into her shoulder. “Yeah, this time it was a memory from when we were kids. We were playing hide and seek, but that game always got boring real quick so we decided to play swords instead. I don’t know why I saw that this time, but I’d rather see that than… something else.” 

Lady pulled away after a while, a tiny smirk on her face. “It’s weird to think of either of you as normal little kids, especially Vergil.”

Dante shrugged. “I mean, we were as normal as two little half-demons could be at that age, you know? Mom tried to keep us from being too wild, but it was just too much fun to play rough. We’d always end up with bloody noses and dirty clothes, and then Mom would lecture us or make us do extra chores or whatever.”

“So, did you not have any other kids to play with or something?”

“No, it was just the two of us. Probably for the best, I guess- If we tried to play like that with other kids, it wouldn’t have ended well,” Dante replied, wincing slightly at the thought. “But it definitely made things weird, being stuck with each other like that. We’d go from best friends to wanting each other dead and back again in the span of like, ten minutes.”

“That’s the kind of thing I always heard from my friends at school about their siblings.”   
  
“Then I guess it was the most normal thing about us I guess,” Dante blinked. “Wait, I almost forgot what we were talking about. But yeah, it’s like whenever Vergil tries to remember something that blue lightning appears and hurts him. But one of the times it happened he managed to fight it hard it enough that one of his gauntlets broke off! So I think that’s the key to saving him. I’m not…” Dante heaved a deep sign and rubbed at his eyes with a hand. “I don’t really know what else I can do to help him besides support him and look after him while he’s fighting from the inside. But I can’t just stay here the whole time either, you know? I need to get the shop fixed up so we’re not exposed to the elements or demons who want an easy way in, but I can’t exactly take Vergil to the hardware store with me, you know?” 

“Can’t you just leave him here for a while?” Lady wondered.

“In hindsight, I’m pretty sure he’s the one who traumatized the pizza guy, so probably not.” Dante glanced at Lady, who immediately figured out what he was thinking.

“Oh no, hell no. Absolutely not. I am not staying here alone with him. What if he goes all brainwashy and tries to kill me?”

Dante gave Lady a pleading look. “Oh, come on! You’re a devil hunter, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of little ol’ Vergil?”

“I watched him  _ stab you  _ with your  _ own sword  _ and leave you for dead!”

“Eh, nothing special about that. I’ve been stabbed by my own sword plenty of times,” Dante insisted.

“If I may remind you, if I get impaled I will literally die,” Lady pointed out dryly, crossing her arms.

Dante opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again, frowning slightly.

“...Alright, yeah. Yeah, you got me there. Uhhh. What if I gave you my amulet? He definitely won’t attack that, and if you’re wearing it, he probably won’t attack you!”

Lady gave him an unimpressed look. “Probably.”

“I’ll… Ask him nicely not to kill you?”

Lady’s eyebrow twitched slightly.

“Tell him firmly not to kill you?” Dante tried. “Come on, Lady, cut me some slack here… Look, I’ll pay you.”   
  
“With what money?! Are you even going to still be paid for the Mallet Island job? You know this is going to be added to your debt, right?”

Dante groaned. “Come on! You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

Their conversation paused as a loud clanging rang out in the front room, leading towards the door to the kitchen. Dante walked over and opened the door to a frustrated, somewhat embarrassed-looking Vergil, who glared down at his heavy greaves that kept him from being stealthy before looking away from Dante as if he had been quietly standing there totally  _ not _ trying to eavesdrop.

“Vergil,” Dante sighed, “Is everything ok out here?” 

Vergil nodded, then looked between Dante and Lady several times, raising an eyebrow. Dante couldn’t help but smile at his expression.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine with us too. I, uh, I was just trying to convince Lady to stay here with you while I go out to get us some stuff to fix up the store. Because you definitely are not coming with me, dude.”

His brother did not like that idea, as evidenced by his deep frown and the way he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Dante sighed. “Look. I’m sorry, bro, but I mean, you saw how you scared the shit out of the poor pizza guy, yeah? I told you already, if normal people see you it’s gonna cause a scene,” he reminded Vergil. 

Vergil shrugged, still with his arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow at Dante in irritation.

_ “So _ I don’t wanna have to deal with that! Come on, man, I’ve had a rough week.  _ Please  _ just let me go to the damn hardware store in peace.”

As Vergil gestured to Lady in frustration, Lady glanced between the two curiously, observing the pair’s back-and-forth argument.

“Because-” Dante paused, blinking as he tried to think of an explanation that didn’t just amount to “because you need a babysitter”. “...Look, mostly I just need Lady to watch the shop, you know? I mean, what if someone shows up and you’re the only one home? That wouldn’t be good, you understand that, right? Come on, it’s nothing personal.”

Vergil stared at Dante for a moment, lips pursed in a tight line, before heaving a long, drawn-out sigh that seemed to be exaggerated in such a way so as to annoy Dante as much as possible. He clomped slowly over to the couch, sat down with a huff, and glared at Dante over his shoulder.

Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a baby.”

Vergil growled at Dante, and Lady couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Man, I’m amazed at how you two can have a conversation without him talking at all,” she commented to Dante, raising an eyebrow in amusement and surprise.

“Well, we are twins, I guess,” Dante replied with a shrug before turning back to his brother. “So I have an idea that will keep anything fucky from happening while I’m gone, I think. Don’t freak out, okay Vergil?” He then took off his amulet, noticing Vergil’s eyes following it intensely as it gently swung from his hand, and put it around Lady’s neck. It clinked lightly against her own necklace. Dante looked over at Vergil, whose fists were clenched. “It’s alright. I’m coming back for it. I’m just trying to make sure nothing happens.” 

Vergil looked no less unhappy, glancing at the amulet and glaring at Lady, going between the two as if he couldn’t understand why Dante would give something so precious away, regardless of circumstance. He then looked at Dante pointedly, and Dante sighed. 

“Vergil. It’s not that I don’t trust you or that I care about Lady more than you. But the armor is still giving you trouble, right?”

Vergil sat very still and nodded once.

“So I’ve got to make sure that if it acts up again, you don’t hurt Lady and she doesn’t have to hurt you, okay?”

Another slow nod. That would have to do.

“I’ll be back soon enough. Please, please do not destroy my home while I’m gone, guys.”

“No promises.”

Vergil shot Lady a pointed glare and a growl of warning, to which Lady rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright, fine. I promise I won’t destroy the shop while you’re out,” she sighed.

“Thank you. Now then…” Dante sauntered towards the front door, and with a wave and a farewell finger-guns, he ducked outside. “See ya later.”

As the door shut behind him, Dante gave a deep, heavy sigh, breathing in the fresh air. It was nice to get out. Mallet Island had an intense atmosphere- Not one that necessarily  _ scared  _ him, per se, though it was definitely creepy as hell. No, Dante himself was far from ordinary, and there was a part of him that felt right at home in those kinds of environments; He relished missions where the air tingled with evil, bringing his demonic instincts to the surface, always putting a fanged grin on his face as he itched for a good fight. But such an experience was far from relaxing, for sure, and his apartment… Well, needless to say things were a bit hectic at the moment. He’d have been lying if he said being at home wasn’t stressful right now.

But the city was the city, and it was just as normal as it had always been. Full of humans who didn’t give two shits who he was or what was in his shop, cars glinting under the light of the evening sun.

Dante stretched out casually as he hopped onto his bike, and idly hoped Lady and Vergil wouldn’t go back on their promise to not fucking destroy the shop.


	5. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> While writing this chapter I had a freakishly accurate prophetic dream about Visions of V. Also, this fic is not sponsored by Home Depot.
> 
> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> I will tell you guys right now that Vergil keeps yanking things in directions I do not plan for!! Why is he like this!! Are you trying to speedrun this fic good sir??

Nelo Angelo felt restless. He did not like the idea of letting Dante go out alone and having to remain here, but what choice did he have? And he was not allowed to fight the human woman who Dante called Lady since that would further damage Dante’s home, so he would have to find some other way of keeping himself occupied. But what? Admiring the various devil arms on the walls only made him want to test them out for himself, which he was currently unable to do. The various demonic trophies were impressive, but that made him want to further test his strength against Dante, who was available and frustratingly stubborn about not wanting to fight him. The pictures of various human women (and one pizza?) on the wall behind the desk disinterested him, and he’d seen better paintings in the castle anyway. Stretching out his senses didn’t reveal any nearby threats, with Dante’s own demonic aura rather far away. 

He stared at the doors Dante had left through for a while, then the floor, and finally the walls again before his gaze fell on the shelf of books in the corner of the room. For some reason he didn’t imagine Dante to be the type of person who did much reading, though he couldn’t remember either way at the moment, but the slight opening of the glass door and lack of dust on most of the books indicated otherwise. Nelo Angelo considered investigating the small collection, but hesitated. He had little time or reason to visit the castle library, yet on the few occasions he had been in there for an amount of time he felt curiously calm, as if it was a place of respite. Unfortunately, whenever he had plucked one of the books off of a shelf, the punishment spell had seen it as rebellion against his master and activated, causing him to drop the book without any chance to try and read it. What was so important in those books that he wasn’t allowed to look at them? Was it simply because he was choosing to do something for himself and not for his master’s purposes?

Well, now he was certainly acting against his master’s purposes, so it wasn’t like anything worse than usual would happen if he tried again here. Nelo Angelo got up and approached the bookshelf, only for Lady to bark at him as he opened the glass door. 

“What are you doing?”

Nelo Angelo gave her an unimpressed look and gestured at the books. What did it look like he was doing? He liked it better when they were ignoring each other.

“Whatever, just don’t fuck with the older tomes in there,” she said, going back to disassembling one of her weapons at Dante’s desk. “Dante and I had a hell of a time taking them out of some cultists’ hands and I don’t want you to get any ideas.”

Rolling his eyes, Nelo Angelo reached into the bookcase and pulled out one with a pleasingly blue cover. He carefully opened it up with his unarmored hand to not tear any pages and… It was written in human writing. He tried to make sense of it, especially given that the symbols on the paper seemed so familiar, but was unable to decipher any of it. He grunted in disappointment. It was rather presumptuous of him to expect the book to be in demonic script, but Dante  _ was  _ a devil hunter and had some level of demonic knowledge, so wouldn’t he have at least a few that Nelo Angelo could read? Also… why wasn’t the punishment spell activating? Was it because it was weakened or because there was nothing useful for him in this book? He put the illegible book back on the shelf and chose a different one with a brown cover. A quick skim through it showed it was also in human writing, and so he tried a few more before growling in frustration and closing the glass door to the bookcase with perhaps a little too much strength if the rattling of the contents inside was an indicator.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Lady’s voice came from behind him. “Don’t break anything or it’s coming out of Dante’s empty-ass pockets.”

Yes, he definitely preferred ignoring her. But with his latest attempt at distraction thwarted, Nelo Angelo’s mind began to wander. How long had Dante been gone by now?

How long did Dante plan on being away, anyway? Nelo Angelo recalled him saying he wouldn’t be long, but he hadn’t specified how long that meant, exactly. How far away was… Wherever it was he’d said he was going? As disgusted as he felt admitting it to himself, Nelo Angelo felt something like dread overcoming him. He had underestimated how much Dante’s presence reassured him. Now, standing here essentially alone, his mind wandered to what he could more easily put aside when his brother was with him. 

By his actions, he was betraying the emperor of the Underworld. His master, who could easily crush him for disobeying and was certainly planning to do the same to Dante for merely existing, who had sent Nelo Angelo after him in the first place. Mundus, who by now must have realized that both Nelo Angelo and Dante were no longer on Mallet Island. Surely he would be sending others to retrieve them. The lower level demons would be no issue for the both of them to handle, but if Nelo Angelo’s armor continued to break, would he be strong enough to repel Mundus’ more powerful generals? He held up his hands in front of his face. The one that had been freed from the armor was trembling minutely. He clenched it into a fist. This had been an imbecilic idea. What had he been thinking? Letting these sudden,  _ human _ emotions dictate his actions was the last thing he should be doing. If anything he should be finding a way to return to his master, shouldn’t he? But the idea of begging for forgiveness and mercy hurt his pride as a demon and a warrior, especially when he knew Mundus was not wont to give it. He would be made an example of, and Dante… A new thought arose in his mind. What if, instead of merely killing Dante, Mundus had him take Nelo Angelo’s place? Dante was a formidable fighter, and his master had to know that. What better way to rid oneself of an enemy by remaking them into an ally? The hole in his chest felt cavernously empty at the thought. That must not be allowed to happen!

Impulsively, he started towards the front door, stopping before it with his hand raised, hovering in front of it. He knew there were no threats nearby, that Dante wanted him to remain here, that Dante was completely capable of taking care of himself. But the separation, the distance between them at this moment filled Nelo Angelo with dread and something not unlike despair. 

“Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going!” Lady yelled behind him. Truly, Dante had chosen an irritating ally. “If you know what’s good for you, step away from the door.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, giving her a flat look. Perhaps she was right that he shouldn’t leave, but he wasn’t going to admit that to her, and so while he turned his back to the door, he remained standing near it. She glared at him over the flimsy looking book she had picked up off of Dante’s desk, and he glowered right back. Nelo Angelo did not understand why his brother lived amongst the humans if all of them were this aggravating. 

His brother. Nelo Angelo could still feel his aura, far but strong, unconcerned and not in danger. Dante was fine. Cursing his loss of control over his emotions, Nelo Angelo crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, honing in all of his senses, physical and demonic, on that steady presence. If something went wrong, he would know. There was no need to be impetuous. He would know if and when Mundus made his move, and Nelo Angelo would be prepared for it.

Dante would assuredly return soon.

* * *

If there was one odd skill Dante had picked up over the years, it was navigating odd building layouts. As a child, he’d known every twist and turn of the family’s rather sizeable manor as easily as if it were instinct; As an adult, he’d stabbed and slashed his way through all sorts of bizarre evil lairs, from abandoned city blocks to ancient demon towers to jungles, places that looked like the alcoholic abandoned love child of a one-night stand between IKEA and a game of Dungeons & Dragons. He’d navigated all of them with ease, but the _ hardware store? _ The hardware store was a different beast entirely.

The hardware store, much as Dante loathed the pun, was like hell on earth. Absolutely nothing about it made sense to him. He walked through rows upon rows of god-knows-what, shelves twice his height- Hell, at one point he somehow wound up in what seemed to be a whole ass kitchen, just in the middle of the store. And next to that? Lawn mowers! _ Lawn mowers! _ Who the hell designed this place?! At least on jobs in spooky castles or whatever, he could usually figure out where to go based on which direction he sensed the most demons in. The only thing demonic about the hardware store was how utterly infuriating it was.

Speaking of demons, Dante didn’t sense any nearby at all. That was… Good..? At least it meant nobody was coming after him, for the time being. Though he couldn’t help but wonder how Lady and Vergil were holding up. Maybe if he focused, he could-

“Oh, is it Comic-Con already?”

Dante blinked, his concentration broken by an awkward, oh-so-falsely-cheerful voice that, after a moment, he realized was speaking to him. “Huh?”

The owner of the voice- A young store employee in a dirty apron and cap- nodded towards Dante. “You’re going to Comic-Con, right? That sword looks pretty realistic,” he said with an awkward laugh.

Dante glanced over his shoulder, and smacked a hand against his forehead as he realized he’d forgotten the guitar case he usually carried Rebellion in when he was out and about, to prevent situations exactly like this. “Uh, yeah,” he lied, and then decided to change the subject. “Hey, question- You got any like, wall stuff?”

The young man blinked. “‘Wall stuff’? You mean, like, paint, or..?”

“Nah, I’m trying to fix a hole in my wall,” Dante elaborated. “So I need, y’know, I guess some wood and-”

“Oh! Oh, a hole!” the young man interrupted with a nod. “Of course. Follow me.”

Dante raised an eyebrow as he followed, baffled by how confidently the young man seemed to move through the mess of a store. They stopped at what seemed to be an aisle full of… Paint?

“Uh… Thanks, but I gotta _ fix  _ the hole before I can paint it,” Dante explained.

The young man nodded. “Right. This isn’t paint, this is spackle,” he corrected Dante. “What sort of wall do you have, sir?”

Dante shrugged. “Brick on the outside, wood on the inside.”

“You mean like, wood paneling?”

“Yep.”

The young man winced. “Ah, sounds like you’ll probably need to replace the paneling, then… As for the drywall underneath, uh- How big is the hole, roughly?”

Dante paused for a moment, and then silently stretched out his arms.

He watched as the young man’s “I make minimum wage and I want to die” smile grew into a little bit more of a grimace.

“O-Oh, um… Sounds like that’s a bit more than a DIY project, I’d say. I would recommend getting in touch with a contractor. If you need recommendations, I know some-”

Dante sighed. “Uh-huh. Look, do you have any like, wood?” he interrupted; He felt slightly guilty for being a bit rude to the poor, definitely underpaid hardware store employee, but  _ god  _ he just wanted to go the fuck home already. Whatever relief he’d felt at getting out of the house had vanished the second he stepped foot into the hideously orange hellscape that was the hardware store.

The young man’s expression fell neutral. “Aisle seven, towards the front,” he answered, in a tone that said that he’d probably given those exact instructions a thousand times before.

Dante nodded. “Got it. Thanks,” he said, shooting the young man a quick thumbs-up before practically running to the aisle in question.

Once he’d made it to the actual aisle, Dante was relieved to find that it didn’t take him long to find some plywood sheets that seemed about the right size to cover the hole. (He noted that some of the plywood seemed to be slightly green in hue; He ignored those ones, assuming they were most likely rotten, and chose the more typically wood-colored ones.) What  _ did  _ take a while, however, was finding nails. After several unproductive investigations that seemed to lead only to a maze of literal toilets, he decided to simply give up- He was pretty sure he still had some nails in a drawer somewhere at home, even if they were a good ten years old or so.

After paying for the plywood, Dante sighed as he finally left the store. Good riddance. 

He paused for a moment at his bike, wondering which method of carrying his spoils home would be least annoying- Magically sticking the boards to the bike, or physically carrying them and steering with one hand. Both sounded pretty shitty, all things considered; Eventually, he settled on simply carrying them, if only because he didn’t think there was a particularly good spot  _ to  _ stick them to.

He yawned as he revved his bike, and idly hoped Vergil and Lady still weren’t trying to kill each other.

* * *

Well, the building was still standing when he rode up, so there was that at least. Dante parked his bike and adjusted his grip on the boards as he headed up the staircase and was greeted with his brother’s imposing form right on the other side of the door. Dante yelped in surprise and dropped the boards with a loud clatter as he ran right into Vergil, who reached out a hand to steady him. 

“Thanks, bro, but can you please tell me why you were standing there?” Dante asked, touched by Vergil’s obvious concern but confused as why he was there in the first place. “You weren’t trying to leave, were you?”

“Oh thank god, you’re finally back,” Lady called from the desk. “He’s just been standing there for like, twenty minutes now. It’s starting to creep me out. Uh, no offense,” she added awkwardly, glancing at Vergil and raising an eyebrow- Though Dante got the sense she cared more about offending  _ him  _ than she cared about offending Vergil.

“Awww, Vergil, did you miss me or something?” Dante grinned up at his brother, who stared down at him, trying to look all stoic and kind of failing. Vergil gave a low hum, somewhere between acknowledgement and irritation, and Dante laughed, patting him on the shoulder affectionately. “Yeah, I- Hang on, what happened to your shoulder?” he wondered, surprised to see a large crack in the armor.

Vergil blinked, and glanced at the shoulder in question, raising both eyebrows; It seemed that this was the first time he’d noticed the crack himself. He met Dante’s gaze with wide eyes.

“First the gauntlet, now the shoulder…” Dante’s expression spread into a wide smile as he realized what this meant. “This is great, bro! We’re really getting somewhere! Fuck yeah!”

Dante noticed what looked like a moment’s conflict in Vergil’s expression, and he frowned in concern, but nonetheless Vergil gave a hesitant smile back. After a few seconds, Vergil’s attention seemed to shift, and he glanced down at the sheets of plywood Dante had dropped on the floor. He bent over to pick them up, and then gave Dante a questioning look.

“Oh, you can just put those wherever,” Dante told him, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m gonna use ‘em to fix up the hole in the wall. Anyway, how’d things go while I was gone?” he asked, glancing towards Lady as well.

“Fine, I guess,” Lady replied with a yawn, watching as Vergil leaned the boards against the wall. “Boring as hell. Me and Sir Frowns-a-Lot over there mostly ignored each other, which is fine by me.”

Vergil scoffed, and rolled his eyes at Lady. Dante held back a laugh.

“Well, thanks for not destroying the place, guys. I appreciate it. Really.”

“Yeah yeah, just don’t forget my money,” grumbled Lady.

“I know, don’t worry,” Dante sighed. “So are you gonna stick around and help or would you just charge for that too?”

“You’re damn right!” Lady chirped sweetly. “Have fun with that. I’ve got better stuff to do than hang out with your and your brother, so I’ll see you around, Dante. Good luck with...” She gestured in the general direction of Vergil and the hole in the wall. “... all of that.”

Vergil’s eyes followed Lady’s movements as she slipped the amulet off her neck and tossed it towards Dante, who caught it reflexively. And with that, she picked up Kalina Ann, slid past Dante out the door, and was gone.

Dante stared blankly towards the door, dumbfounded. “Wow. She really just ditched me, huh,” he muttered, still holding the amulet.

Vergil gave Dante a look somewhere between pity and sarcasm.

“Aw, shut up,” Dante grumbled. “Anyway… Guess I better find some nails ‘n’ shit for the wall.” He started rummaging through his larger desk drawers, and when that didn’t turn up anything useful, went looking for the shitty old toolbox in the closet. “Come on, I know I had nails somewhere!”

As Dante continued his futile search for nails, he heard Vergil clear his throat awkwardly. Turning around, Dante watched as Vergil raised an eyebrow, waved a hand at Dante, and… Pointed out his fingertips. Dante stared in confusion for a moment, and then sighed.

“Not  _ those  _ kinds of nails, dumbass, I’m looking for wall nails,” he corrected him. “I know what fingernails are. How dumb do you think I am?”

Vergil glanced away, seemingly feigning innocence. Dante blushed bright red; Apparently, even a guy who didn’t seem to have much of a concept of anything outside of fighting was convinced Dante was an idiot. Great. What a supportive brother Dante had, clearly.

The old toolbox only held a rusty hammer, some comically small wrenches, a screwdriver, and old nails that were definitely too small for holding the boards he had bought to the wall. Wonderful. Maybe he should have bought new nails after all. But it would probably be a bad a idea to leave Vergil again so soon after just getting back, so making the walk of shame back to the hardware store was out of the question for now.

“Well, shit,” Dante exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Great. This day just keeps getting better and better.”

Vergil gave Dante a questioning look, and Dante sighed as he flopped down onto the couch. “The nails are too short to do any good, and I’m pretty sure they’d disintegrate if I even tried,” he explained. “So basically, there’s nothing to actually attach the boards to the wall with. Fuck me, I guess.”

Vergil frowned and stared at Dante for a moment, crossing his arms and glancing between Dante, the hole in the wall, and the boards with a thoughtful “hmmm”. After a moment, his gaze drifted towards the weapons on the wall, and he reached for one of the swords.

Dante groaned, burying his face in his hands. Of fucking course Vergil went for the sword. “For the last time, I’m still not gonna fight you, dude,” he muttered, his voice muffled by his hands, and contemplated maybe just going to sleep in the hopes that everything would magically fix itself in the morning.

A huff and a loud  _ thud  _ interrupted Dante’s existential self-pity session, and he glanced up half-heartedly; He blinked in surprise as he realized that Vergil had stabbed the sword into the wall, and was now gesturing towards it, looking at Dante expectantly.

“Oh,” Dante said simply, staring at Vergil’s almost comically straightforward solution. “I mean, I guess that works..? But, uh… Let’s- Let’s try something smaller. And, uh, maybe not put any more holes in the wall, yeah?” he added with a slight grimace.

Vergil nodded, pulling the sword out of the wall and gently returning it to its usual spot. As he did so, Dante began rummaging through one of the drawers under the bookcase, looking for-

“Aha!” he exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled out a set of daggers. “These oughta do it.”

Vergil’s eyes widened, his gaze snapping towards the drawer with immediate interest. Dante held back a laugh- The look on Vergil’s face was almost cute. “Yeah, yeah, you can go check it out. Just don’t make too much of a mess, alright?”

Vergil snorted as if indignant that Dante would accuse him of being messy and walked over to the drawer, lifting an ornate spiked gauntlet out and inspecting it with curiosity.

Dante chuckled at his brother geeking out and turned back to his project, moving the file cabinets back to their original places and picking up one of the boards. He held it in place above the hole and stabbed a dagger into one end, and then the other before moving back to check his work. The board held, and so he continued with the next ones until the hole was properly covered up. Perfect! The daggers should hold it until he could make it back to the hardware store.

“Alright, that should do it for now,” Dante announced, standing back to admire his handiwork. Vergil turned to look as well. Dante watched as Vergil’s expression gradually shifted from one of curiousity, to concern, to disdain, and finally a grimace of distaste; To Dante’s surprise, he stood up, walked over to the wall, and began removing the daggers one by one.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Vergil! What the fuck, man?!”

Vergil waved a hand to shoo Dante away without even looking at him, shaking his head and sighing at the boards on the wall. Dante could only watch, astounded and offended, as Vergil tossed the daggers onto the floor unceremoniously. Finally, Vergil lifted up one of the boards, and… Held it up against the wall, adjusting the positioning ever so carefully until he was certain that it was level and centered. He then looked towards Dante expectantly.

Dante stared. “...What?”

Vergil nodded towards the daggers on the floor, and then towards the board, raising an eyebrow at Dante.

“Seriously? You’re really making me redo the whole thing because it wasn’t neat enough for you?” Dante groaned in realization. Vergil huffed and motioned for Dante to hurry up; Dante sighed in response. “Alright, alright, fine… Whatever makes you happy, dude…”

As Dante reluctantly bent down to pick up a dagger, he paused, glancing at the pile thoughtfully. After a moment’s debate, he smirked, and picked up several at once; With a flourish, he closed his eyes, whirled around, and threw four daggers over his shoulder in sequence.

Dante broke out into a grin as he heard Vergil give a loud “Hmm!” of satisfaction. He turned around to find Vergil examining the four daggers. He pointed out one of them, and huffed, shaking his head at Dante- The angle was slightly crooked. Even still, Vergil was smiling, something that made Dante feel all warm and fuzzy and all that shit.

Dante snorted. “Oh yeah? Think you can do better, then? I’d like to see you try,” he taunted, and walked over to the wall. He picked up the second board and carefully lined it up with the first one as Vergil picked up the remaining daggers, and then he looked towards Vergil with a grin. “Come on. Give it your best shot, bitch.”

Vergil chuckled darkly, and took a deep breath. For a moment, he stood very still; Then, without warning, he threw all four daggers at once, sending each one plunging into the wall with a clean  _ shunk. _

“Ooh! Let’s see!” Dante stepped away from the wall, and stood with his hands on his hips as he inspected Vergil’s work. “Hmm… Not bad, but this one’s a little off center. I give it an S, maybe an SS at most. Still pretty good, though… Man, I should teach you to play darts,” he suggested, tilting his head at Vergil in thought.

Vergil gave Dante a questioning look.

“It’s a game where you throw sharp things at a board-” Vergil picked up the nearest sword and threw it into one of the boards covering the hole. “No, not like that, dumbass! There’s rules ‘n’ shit. Smaller sharp things. Please don’t fuck up the hole we just fixed,” Dante sighed.

Vergil’s shoulders drooped in disappointment, his expression slightly embarrassed. Dante gave him an apologetic pat on the back. “‘S’ok, I’ll show you later. It’ll be fun, trust me. Just… don’t break the shop anymore, please. Let’s just finish this up.”

Between the two of them they managed to get the hole covered properly in record time, and Vergil drifted back over to the bookcase, opening the glass door and pulling out a book. 

“Oh, did you find something good to read?” Dante asked, grinning. Vergil always was a big book nerd. His grin faded as Vergil shook his head, opening the book and tracing the words inside with a large finger. 

Dante was confused “Do you not like it? You can get another one if you want.”

Vergil sighed and returned the book to the shelf, picking another one up and doing the same as before, running his finger along the words before shaking his head. Oh. Ohhh.

“You can’t read them?”

His brother nodded, relieved to be understood, and Dante’s heart panged with sadness. Vergil had always loved reading so much, and even that had been taken from him too…

“I can read to you if you want. What do you want to read?”

Vergil blinked at him before putting the book he was still holding back and raising an eyebrow. He gestured dismissively at the rest of the books and started making symbols in the air as if he was writing.

“Holy shit Vergil, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of having you write down what you wanna say to me before?” Dante pointedly ignored Vergil’s smug “Yes I am a genius and you are a fool” expression as he dug through his desk and pulled out a pencil and some loose leaf paper, setting them on top of the desk. “Wait, if you can’t read, how are you gonna write?”

Ignoring him, Vergil picked up the pencil, frowning at how small it was in his enormous hand, and carefully started to jot down something… in demonic script.

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” Dante murmured, leaning around Vergil’s large shoulder to look at what he was writing. Which… didn’t look like much. His brother seemed to be having a hard time expressing himself, starting several words and sentences before scratching them out. Unfortunately, his frustration seemed to be mounting, and the pencil snapped in half in his gauntleted right hand. Vergil growled at the splintered pencil halves, and Dante patted him on the back. “It’s alright, bro. I’ll get you a pen or something.”

Dante dove back into the desk drawers, purposely avoiding the one that hid the picture of their mother, and managed to rummage up a surprisingly nice looking pen. Had that been a gift from Morrison? It looked slightly out of place in his office, but Vergil took it without question and held it in his unarmored left hand, making another attempt to get something down on the paper.

The first sentence was short. “ _ I don’t understand you.” _

“What do you mean you don’t understand me?” Dante asked, frowning in confusion. “You seem to understand what I say just fine.”   
  
Vergil shook his head and wrote,  _ “No. I don’t understand why you are this way. You dwell among humans despite not being truly human yourself. You act unlike any demon I have ever encountered. Why?” _

Dante sighed, looking away and rubbing his forehead. “Going right for the heavy stuff, huh bro? You’d have better luck asking me if water is wet,” he answered dryly.

Vergil narrowed his eyes in confusion at Dante for a moment, before sighing and picking up the pen once more.  _ “I don’t understand. That question seems irrelevant and foolish. You are a deeply confusing person.” _

“You got that right,” Dante agreed with a slight bitter laugh, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning against the wall, his body language casual yet his expression slightly solemn. “Fuck if I know why I am the way I am. Half human, half demon… I’m never really sure if that makes me both or neither.”

In contrast to Dante’s melancholy, Vergil’s face showed nothing but sheer disbelief. He stared at Dante with wide eyes, looking him over slowly, as if he’d never seen him before. He hesitantly raised a hand to point at Dante with a grunt of confusion.

Dante raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

Vergil gave no clarification, seemingly too in shock to respond; Suddenly, his eyes widened even further, and he clapped a hand to his chest and stared down at it with a sound somewhere between confusion and distress.

Dante frowned, puzzled by this reaction. What was Vergil so alarmed about? What had Dante said that- ... _ Oh. _

“Oh, right… I guess fuckface wouldn’t have told you about all this, huh,” Dante muttered, biting his lip at the realization of just how little Vergil knew about his own identity. Nonetheless, he tried to smile as he stepped away from the wall and patted Vergil on the shoulder. “My mother-  _ Our  _ mother- Was a human, and our father was a demon. So philosophically, uh, there’s a lot to unpack there, but biologically speaking, you and I are both half human, half demon. Mostly raised by humans, I guess, but to be honest I can’t claim to have anything close to a normal human lifestyle,” he admitted with a shrug.

Vergil slowly turned his gaze back towards Dante, and continued to stare at him with wide eyes, an unreadable mixture of emotions on his face. The longer he stared, the more awkward Dante felt. “Uh… You alright there, dude?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

Vergil gave a shaky nod, and took a deep breath. He picked up the pen again- Hesitating for a moment, as if not quite sure what to write, before giving a nod of conviction and pressing it to the paper.

_ “This is very unexpected. In hindsight, it does seem to explain some things, yet also raises additional questions.” _

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Dante leaned casually against the desk. “Ask away, bro.”

“ _ If our father was a demon, what was his name? _ ”

As Vergil asked, the armor’s spell decided it was a great time to activate, and Vergil gritted his teeth and dropped the pen. Fuck. So their father’s identity had to be another trigger for the damn armor too, huh? Dante wasn’t exactly surprised, but it still pained him to see Vergil hurt once again. (Why did Vergil have to go right for the worst possible question he could have asked?) His heart ached even as it burned with rage. He clenched his fists to match his twins’. Carefully, as to not touch him and get sucked into the enchantment again, Dante circled around the desk and reached out to Vergil, his hands hovering on either side of his brother’s face. 

“Vergil, our father’s name was Sparda.  We are the sons of Sparda, and within each of us flows his blood, but more importantly, his soul. I know Mundus has done something to suppress your soul, but now, my soul is calling out to yours. I’m here for you. I know you can keep fighting this. I love you, so so much, Vergil.”

* * *

_ “My dear sons, I love you so much.” Their father’s voice was as deep and comforting as his words, and Vergil happily nuzzled into Sparda’s shoulder as Dante did the same.  _

_ “I love you too, Dad,” Dante replied cheerfully. “Can we play swords?” _

_ “After dinner, dear.” _

_ “But I wanna play now!” Dante insisted. _

_ Their father chuckled, a warm, low rumble. “And just how do you expect to fight on an empty stomach, hmm?” _

_ Dante paused, frowning as he thought about this. After a few seconds, he seemed to forget about the question, his gaze drifting towards the wall behind their father’s chair. “I wanna play with that sword,” he announced, pointing a tiny, baby-fat finger. _

_ “Hmm?” Sparda turned to glance over his shoulder. “Which one?” _

_ “The skel-um-ton sword.” _

_ Once again, their father laughed, and the vibration tickled Vergil’s side. “Maybe not that one. Not until you’re older.” _

_ Vergil perked up at this. “I’m older! Can I play with it?” _

_ “Hey!” _

_ Sparda gave a snort of amusement and shook his head. “No, Vergil. I meant when you’re both older than you are now. When you’re bigger, and stronger,” he explained. _

_ Both boys nodded slowly, as if mirroring each other. “Ohhhhh.” _

_ “Like you?” Vergil asked. Sparda smiled. _

_ “Just like me. Well, maybe not quite as tall,” he added with a laugh. _

_ “I’m gonna be the biggest and strongest ever,” Dante declared dramatically. “I’m gonna play with the skel-um-ton sword, and I’m gonna be sooooooo strong-” _

_ “Of course.” _

_ “I’m gonna be the super strongest ever in the whole world-” _

_ Vergil huffed. “Well I’m gonna be stronger than Dante,” he decided. _

_ Their father gave a low, thoughtful hum at this. A strange look crossed his face, and Vergil wondered what it meant- Though Dante seemed not to notice. _

_ “...I’m sure you’ll both be quite strong,” he began after a moment, looking at both of them in turn. “But do you know what the strongest thing in this world is?” _

_ The boys exchanged glances as they thought about this. _

_ “You?” Vergil guessed. _

_ Sparda shook his head. “No, not me.” _

_ “Mom?” Dante suggested instead. _

_ Sparda chuckled. “Mom is the second strongest.” _

_ Dante and Vergil both frowned in confusion, wondering what could be stronger than their parents. _

_ “...Godzilla?” Dante tried. _

_ “No, not Godzilla either.” Their father shook his head, and pulled the boys closer, sighing as he held them. “The strongest thing in this world is love. The bonds we share with each other can never be severed by any sword,” he explained quietly. “That’s why you two must always remember to love and care for each other. You’re brothers, and that very fact will be your greatest strength, as long as you remember.” _

_ Vergil frowned. “How would I forget Dante? That’s dumb.” _

_ “Yeah, I’m never gonna forget that I love Vergil!” Dante insisted. _

_ Sparda gave another thoughtful hum. “Vergil, do you remember yesterday when Dante took your toy truck and you said you hated him?” _

_ Vergil’s eyes widened. “I- I didn’t mean that!” he blurted out, biting his lip as he felt a sudden guilt bubble up in his stomach. _

_ “Yeah, he was just sayin’ that,” Dante agreed. “I’m sorry I took your truck, Vergil.” _

_ “Um… It’s ok.” Vergil hesitantly reached across to pat Dante on the head. “I love you, Dante.” _

_ “I love you too!” _

_ Their father smiled, and Vergil relaxed slightly as he realized that he wasn’t in trouble after all. “Very good. I’m proud of you both for being so good to each other. If you’re always nice to each other, then there’s nothing to worry about. It’s ok to be angry at each other sometimes, but you have to always remember not to take it too far, understand? Your anger must never outweigh your love for each other.” _

_ “Don’t worry, Dad! That would never, ever happen!” Dante exclaimed, shaking his head. _

_ “Yeah, I always love Dante, even when he takes my stuff,” Vergil agreed. _

_ Sparda smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Now… Let’s get you two cleaned up for dinner.” _

* * *

Sparda. Sparda. Sparda. That was his father’s name. He was a Son of Sparda. That he had forgotten was a testament to the power of Mundus’ diabolic torture and corruption, for how else could he have lost the knowledge of what had defined him his entire life? Even in the Underworld, it had practically been dangled in front of his face. Mundus’ generals sneered at him, loathing to work alongside the “spawn of the traitor”, and rebellious lesser demons hissed his father’s name as he cut them down in Mundus’ name.

But he had never been allowed to process all of that, due to the spell purging it from his line of thought if he tried to pay attention. 

That thought, the thought he was finally able to have due to the spell’s weakening power and his own growing will, filled him with a rage he had never been allowed to feel before. His mind held captive for as long as Mundus had had him, his heritage hidden yet mocked. The more he was able to remember of himself, the more incensed he became. Was his fear of Mundus waning? It must be, for he felt more than ever that remaining here with Dante was the correct decision. 

Dante. His twin. His brother, who he had sworn to their father care for, to  _ love _ . Love. Mundus had spat the word derisively when explaining to Nelo Angelo why humans were inferior, but Sparda had said it with such reverence and exaltation. The hole in his chest pulsed in pain, and he clawed at it fruitlessly, the scraping sound of his nails on the chestpiece unsettling. Love. His father, a demon, had been able to feel love… Was it supposed to hurt this much?

He could feel the punishment spell running its course, but the pain didn’t lessen. He pressed both hands to his chest in an attempt to relieve it and jolted when he felt Dante put a hand over his unarmored one. 

“Vergil?” Dante’s face was full of concern, but now he recognized the other emotion in his brother’s eyes for what it was. “What’s wrong? Is the armor still hurting you?”

He shook his head minutely, gasping at the searing lance of a fresh wave of pain emanating from the hole. If he could only reach it…

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what’s happening, but we’re going to figure it out. I’m gonna help you.” Dante gave him a soft but sad smile, and the pain rose to a peak as a single thought coalesced in his mind: Dante loved him, and Vergil loved Dante back. How had he forgotten that?

A loud  _ CRACK! _ rang out as the already damaged shoulder piece snapped into two halves and fell to the floor, crumbling into dust. Almost instantly, the agony in his chest dulled to an ache, and he sagged forward onto the desk. 

“Oh shit! Vergil?” Dante’s hand on his chest was holding his unarmored one tightly now, the other gingerly touching his newly exposed shoulder. “It happened again… You’re doing it, bro. I’m so proud of you. You just gotta stop scaring me like this, alright?”

Nelo Angelo snorted. It wasn’t as if he was doing this on purpose. 

As if reading his mind, Dante gave a shaky chuckle and gently lifted Nelo Angelo’s chin so he could press their foreheads together. It felt… nice.

“Let’s get you over to the couch so you can rest a little.”

* * *

After helping Vergil over to the couch and partially covering him with a blanket (which he had initially pushed away before Dante insisted), Dante grabbed the pen and a hardcover book, laying the remaining pieces of loose leaf paper on top of the book, and laid them next to Vergil. “In case you have anything else to say.”

With Vergil taken care of, Dante was now free to sit down and attempt to process what the hell had just happened. 

What  _ was _ that? It hadn’t taken long for Dante to figure out that the armor electrocuted Vergil whenever he began to remember his past, but evidently there was more to it than that. Vergil had clearly been in pain even after the armor settled down, and he’d claimed that it wasn’t the armor that was hurting him… But then, what was? Not to mention the way Vergil kept clawing at his chest; Dante had noticed him doing that once or twice before, too. Why? Was there something underneath the armor that was hurting him? What was it?

Dante sighed. No way to tell without asking Vergil- Assuming Vergil even knew himself. 

(It had honestly been a massive relief to learn that Vergil was capable of writing, albeit only in demonic. Anything that could help him express himself despite Mundus’ efforts to keep him quiet was a blessing.)

Glancing towards the couch, Dante noticed Vergil staring at him, and gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

Vergil paused for a moment, as if contemplating this question. After some thought, he gave a low, weak hum. Even without words, his tone said it all: Vergil was exhausted.

Dante gave Vergil a sympathetic look. “Yeah, it’s been a hell of a day, huh… But hey, you’re making progress! ...I think..?” he frowned slightly in confusion. “And if nothing else, at least we finally got that hole fixed. Thanks for your help with that.”

Vergil gave a slight, tired smile, and Dante smiled right back. After a moment, though, he frowned slightly. “Hey, uh… Can I ask you something, bro?” he began quietly. Vergil nodded. “What  _ was  _ that just now? Why were you…” Dante trailed off, and tapped a hand to his chest. “What’s wrong?”

Vergil sat still for several moments, looking lost in thought, before he reached for the pen and paper and wrote, “ _ There’s a hole here.”  _ He laid a hand on his chest, where his heart should be. “ _ It feels hollow, like something is missing. But I do not know what. It aches when I think about you.” _

Dante stared down at the paper in confusion. “A… A ‘hole’..? What the hell does that- Oh, holy  _ shit,” _ he whispered as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked in his head. Vergil gave Dante a questioning look, but Dante didn’t respond, his blood running cold as he recalled what he’d seen and heard that first time he’d gotten caught in the armor’s lightning.

_ The heart is a tumor of weakness. So let me rid you of it. _

Oh, god.

Dante took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he looked up at Vergil and forced himself to swallow the horror bubbling up in his stomach. “Vergil,” he began, his mouth feeling painfully dry. “I… I think, somehow, Mundus- I-I didn’t even know this was possible, but I think… He took part of your soul,” he explained quietly. “The, um- The human part. I guess.”

To Dante’s shocked concern, Vergil did not appear particularly disturbed by this, merely replying, “ _ If it was to make me stronger, I am not surprised he did that. However, the loss of my memories and will and the struggle of regaining them are things I shall no longer suffer lightly. _ ”

“Why in the hell would removing your humanity make you stronger?! That’s- God, you don’t even realize what he’s done to you, do you?” Dante found himself blurting out. “You were  _ never  _ weak, Vergil. Frankly, if I’m being fuckin’ honest, you were the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever fought, by far. You damn near killed me! It took all I had to-” he paused, his words catching in his throat as he recalled things he’d rather forget. “And- And you never needed any shitty ass armor to do it, either! Dude, you were stronger than any demon could ever even  _ try  _ to be! And now look at you. Fuck. How the hell’s that so-called ‘lack of weakness’ working out for you, huh? Or did you just feel like taking a nap for fun this morning?” he snapped, knocking the pen away in his rage.

It wasn’t fair of him to take things out on Vergil. He knew that. It wasn’t Vergil’s fault that Mundus had- But then, hadn’t Vergil always been the one who insisted that Dante’s human side made him weak? Had anything really changed at all? Was there even any point in trying to help Vergil, or was he just wasting his time, chasing after a dream of a family that would never be real? A family Vergil would never agree to be a part of?

Dante slumped back against the wall, burying his face in his hands. Everything was so, so wrong, and he couldn’t even remember the last time it had been right. Maybe it never had been. Maybe it never would be.

God, what the hell had he been thinking? Had Dante really been stupid enough to believe that he had a chance at some magical happy ending where he and Vergil lived together like a family? What a fucking mistake that had been. As if Vergil, in his right mind, would ever want to stay with Dante. Vergil  _ hated _ Dante. He’d  _ always _ hated Dante, had hated him ever since they were kids, would always hate him no matter how hard Dante tried to make things up to him...

Hell, the only reason Vergil had stopped trying to kill him was because of the amulet. Vergil loved a stupid fucking chunk of rock more than he would ever love Dante, because all Vergil cared about was power, and it was stupid of Dante to think otherwise. No matter what he did, as soon as Vergil got his memories back he’d remember how much he hated Dante, and he’d leave as if it were the easiest thing in the world- Just like he had those nine years ago, turning back to make sure the job was done, no remorse in those cold eyes as he left Dante to bleed out in the rain-

Dante felt his body threatening to trigger at the memory of that night, and he took a shaky breath in a desperate attempt to keep it together- Though he wasn’t sure why he bothered, really, when it wasn’t like it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.  _ He _ didn’t matter. He never would. 

Distantly, he found himself wishing Lady had stuck around. Lady was always good at calming him down. Lady was the only person who really cared about him; The only person who accepted Dante for who he was, rather than despising him for being too human or too demon or not enough of either. But for as much as Dante loved her, Lady was not Vergil. Vergil was Dante’s  _ twin.  _ No one, not Lady or anyone else, could fill the hole in his heart Vergil had left behind- The hole Dante himself had torn open by being such a stupid, selfish child. 

Dante had driven Vergil away all those years ago, and he was never, ever coming back. Never. 

* * *

Nelo Angelo was… bewildered, to say the least. Had he truly been so powerful before Mundus had rid him of his humanity? Was it not as useless as he believed? Was that why Sparda had spoken of human traits so reverently?

But that made no sense. Humans were weak, fragile things, only good for supplying the blood that was the source of demonic power. 

Dante said he had nearly killed him? Why? Had they battled before Mallet Island, and did it have to do with the way Dante treated him now?

His brother said he was stronger than any other demon.. but if that part of him had been so powerful, why had he lost to Mundus?

Nelo Angelo’s mind reeled with questions, and he almost missed the insult directed at him. He growled as Dante hit the pen out of his hand but did not pursue him, instead reaching to pick up the pen and holding it above the paper. He had so many questions!

If he and Dante loved each other so much, why would he have tried to kill each other in the past? Nelo Angelo felt a pang of disappointment. Perhaps they were not so unlike the violent nestlings of the underworld after all.

His past strength… it had been more than enough to rival Dante, according to the man himself, and yet his admittedly clouded memory of his first meeting with Mundus showed his clear defeat at the hands of the emperor. If his humanity had made him so powerful, then how did he lose? The hollowness in his chest ached once more as the logic led him to a simple conclusion: Dante was not yet strong enough to face Mundus and win, not if Nelo Angelo had lost to him in his apparently more powerful form. 

Feeling concerned and trying to decide his first question of many, Nelo Angelo looked up to see Dante curled up against the wall. What was wrong with him? Had he suddenly realized that he stood no chance? Was he disappointed in Nelo Angelo’s own weakness? He suddenly felt a spike of power tinged with anguish and paused. Was Dante’s distress so great that he was losing control of his power? Perhaps his questions would have to wait.

Nelo Angelo slowly put the pen and paper down and stood up, making sure not to make any sudden movements. If his brother truly was losing control, it would be unwise to startle him. Nelo Angelo cautiously approached Dante, monitoring his demonic aura as it glowed brightly with each spike. What would be the best course of action here? Simply leaving Dante to his devices while he was experiencing such turmoil would be foolhardy, but Nelo Angelo was ill-equipped for this kind of situation. So he decided to try doing another gesture that Dante had done for him: he reached out with his unarmored hand and laid it on his shoulder. Even if the cause of Dante’s apparent misery was Nelo Angelo’s failures, he could attempt to be apologetic for disgracing their father’s name.

Dante gave a small gasp as Nelo Angelo’s hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up with wide, bewildered eyes, which Nelo Angelo could see were brimming with tears.

“You don’t… you don’t have to pretend, Vergil,” his brother murmured, and the pain in his voice caused the hollowness in his chest to ache more keenly. “I guess I should have known better, right? You’ve always cared about power more than you ever cared about me, or humanity, or anything else. And I know that’s not going to change even after you remember everything. So you don’t have to pretend like you’re worried about me.”

Nelo Angelo was extremely confused. Why was Dante suddenly saying these things? What had happened between them to make Dante believe that he didn’t care for him? Surely it had to do with what Dante had said about Nelo Angelo nearly killing him in the past, but why had that happened in the first place? Had his past self deemed it necessary to harm his twin for his own ends? 

The thought of using Dante in such a way made him frown. If he only knew what his past self had been thinking… But he wouldn’t know until those memories were unlocked. For the moment, the best course of action would be to convince Dante that he certainly cared now, but as he focused his attention back on his brother, he noticed his face twisting into a snarl.

“I know you don’t mean it! I don’t know why you’re doing this but knowing it’s not real just makes it worse!” Dante snapped, shoving Nelo Angelo away. “I don’t fucking want fake love!”

Fake? Nelo Angelo clenched his jaw. What right did Dante have to tell him the emotions welling up inside him were fake? Perhaps he had inflicted physical and apparently emotional hurt on his brother in the past, but Nelo Angelo could barely remember that past and had no reason to lie to Dante now. He took his brother’s chin in a firm grip, turning his face and gaze up toward his own, and grabbed one of his hands and put it on his chestplate where he could feel the hole inside him howling even now.

_ If I did not care, _ he thought, staring into Dante’s eyes and willing his twin to somehow hear his mind,  _ I would not bother with any of this. Can you feel this emptiness? Do you truly think I wished for it? That being a puppet of Mundus’ might is preferable to me over my free will, my memories, my birthright, and my kin?  _ Unsure of how else to express himself, Nelo Angelo drew close and pressed his forehead against Dante’s, tightly but gently squeezing the hand he held to his chest.  _ Fool _ .

Nelo Angelo felt Dante become tense, as if uncertain of how to react. His hand trembled, and his breathing was audibly shaky and irregular. Nelo Angelo frowned. Was Dante… Afraid? Why? Was it because of what he’d mentioned before, about Nelo Angelo nearly killing him? Did he fear such a betrayal happening again? But… That didn’t make sense either. It had been Dante’s own choice to bring Nelo Angelo to his home, and he’d certainly felt confident enough before to sleep in Nelo Angelo’s presence. Surely he couldn’t have suddenly changed his mind? Was there something else bothering him?

What was Dante afraid of? And… What could Nelo Angelo do to reassure him? Nelo Angelo turned his attention back towards his brother as he noticed him shifting slightly. 

“Why do you keep lying to me?” Dante whispered. “Why are you doing this to me? Is it- Is this funny to you? Is it funny to you, that I’ve spent- That I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel fucking broken?!” Dante’s voice began to once again take on an angrier tone, and Nelo Angelo hastily let go as he felt- And saw- Dante’s demonic aura spike once again. “Isn’t it fucking  _ funny _ how stupid I am, for thinking you’d ever love me?!”

Nelo Angelo froze, stunned. Dante truly thought that he didn’t love him. How badly had he hurt Dante in the past? What was he supposed to do now?

Just as quickly as Dante’s anger had risen, it disappeared, leaving behind seemingly nothing but despair. Nelo Angelo watched as Dante slowly pulled away, collapsed against the wall once more, and began to sob into his hands. “God. Fuck. I’m so stupid.”

The sight of Dante’s tears snapped Nelo Angelo out of his stupor. The ache in his chest became a sharp stab, but he pushed past it, abruptly lifting his twin into his arms and carrying him over to the couch. He laid the blanket over him and, when Dante made an indignant noise and attempted to get up, firmly pressed a hand against his chest to keep him in place and shook his head. As Dante slumped back against the cushions Nelo Angelo found and picked up the pen and paper and sat next to him, beginning to write. 

_ Dante, I am unsure of what has caused this outburst, but I wish to assure you that everything I feel for you is real. However, I can also see why you would have difficulty believing me, given what you’ve mentioned about our past, even though I cannot yet remember it. Therefore, I wish to prove my sincerity to you. Ask of me what you wish for as proof of my love. _

He passed the paper to Dante, who wiped his still-flowing tears multiple times as he read it. Instead of saying anything, Dante made a pained, high-pitched sound in his throat, the paper crumpling in his shaking hands, and another stab of agony lanced through Nelo Angelo’s chest. He drew Dante into his arms, holding his brother close as his sobs became wails and he pressed his face into the cold breastplate. Nelo Angelo ran his unarmored hand over Dante’s hair, quietly relieved when that appeared to be the correct action and Dante leaned into the touch. 

Slowly, the wails died down shudders, and eventually Dante was taking deep breaths as he remained curled in Nelo Angelo’s lap. When his breathing was mostly stable, he whispered, “Don’t leave me. If you really want to prove you love me, please don’t leave me alone again. I don’t think I could take it.”

In order to write a reply, Nelo Angelo would have to let go of Dante, so instead he lifted his face in one large hand and pressed their foreheads together once more. This time, Dante seemed to understand the gesture and reached up to wrap his arms around Nelo Angelo’s neck, sighing in relief. 

“Thank you.”

Nelo Angelo hummed in acknowledgement and pressed his other hand to Dante’s back, keeping him close as his brother succumbed to exhaustion from grief and fear and fell asleep. 

Dante had spoken several times of fixing Nelo Angelo, of getting him back to normal, but it was clear that Dante needed “fixing” as well. Nelo Angelo’s heart had been ripped out, but his twin’s heart had been shattered. As much as he dreaded to ask, he knew that it was imperative that Dante tell him exactly what had happened between them to cause Dante to act this way. 

Nelo Angelo gazed down at his brother, whose face softened in sleep. He settled back into the couch’s pillows, still holding Dante gently in his arms. His questions could wait for now.


	6. Weeping Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> Dante spent a prolonged amount of time as a child in a closet he was terrified to leave, call that being bisexual (canned laughter) (muffled Dante sobbing)
> 
> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> So! This chapter ended up WAY too long, so we decided to split it into two. The second half is STILL being written after 50 pages, which tells you just how long it is! Hoo boy.

Dante awoke to the sound of rain, and gentle breathing. He slowly opened his eyes, and found himself pressed closely against Vergil, who drooled lightly as he slept with one arm wrapped around Dante. 

Just as the events of the previous night slowly came back to Dante, Vergil stirred, blinking several times and giving a quiet, sleepy groan. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, neither quite awake enough to know what to say; Eventually, Dante reluctantly broke the silence, yawning and sitting up slightly.

“Hey,” he muttered in a tired voice. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

Vergil gave a small nod, and rubbed at his eyes sleepily as Dante slowly stood up and headed towards the stairs. Just as he reached the landing, Dante suddenly paused, glancing back for a moment at Vergil, as he remained slumped over on the couch.

“...Don’t go anywhere, yeah?”

Vergil nodded once again, more clearly this time. Dante hesitated for just another second or two before turning away, and slowly climbing up what remained of his very unlucky stairs. 

After grabbing a towel and some random clothes (hopefully clean ones, he didn’t particularly pay attention to where he took them from), Dante sighed as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water rinse away the sweat from the previous night. The impact of the night’s events, however, was not so easily washed away, and he frowned as he recalled everything that had happened- As much as he could, anyway, his memories of the incident slightly scattered. (The fact that he’d just woken up didn’t exactly help with that, either, though his shitty old shower’s obnoxious Russian roulette of temperature changes sure did wake him up...)

God, everything that had happened… Sure had happened, huh. The more Dante thought about it, the more he realized he owed Vergil an apology- And an explanation. After all, it wasn’t like Vergil had any clue what a panic attack was, and without his memories he sure as hell wouldn’t have known what exactly Dante had been talking about anyway; Hell, Dante himself couldn’t remember what exactly had set him off. Something about Mundus, maybe..? Whatever. It wasn’t all that important anyway. He-

...Dante’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar feeling in the back of his mind, a sort of mental tingling not unlike the feeling of passing a hand between two magnets. Yes, Dante knew exactly what he was sensing: A nearby demonic presence, and not Vergil’s, either. Although, he noted, it did feel rather familiar; Had some poor, dumb fucker come looking for a rematch? Or… Dante’s eyes widened as the possibility suddenly occurred to him that maybe, god forbid, Mundus had sent one of his minions to bring Vergil back, and he hurriedly reached to turn the water off- Until he finally realized just  _ where  _ he’d felt that aura before.

It was only Trish. Thank fuck. Dante let out a long sigh of relief and leaned against the shower wall, taking a moment to let the adrenaline fade. He did wonder idly what had brought Trish to the shop this time, anyway, but the question wasn’t a huge priority in his mind. He was simply relieved to know that Vergil was safe, and that he could take his sweet time, yawning as he started rinsing the conditioner from his hair.

By the time Dante finished his shower, Trish’s presence seemed to have faded. Dante frowned in confusion as he hopped down the stairs, a towel draped over his shoulders. “Hey, did you happen to see like, a girl around here? Blonde hair, kinda-”

Dante paused mid-sentence as he caught sight of Vergil, standing between the couch and the coffee table in a fighting stance, holding his sword out in front of him and… Growling threateningly at the window?

Dante blinked. “Um. You, uh, good there, dude..?” he questioned hesitantly, confused as to what the hell Vergil was doing.

Vergil’s eyes widened as he noticed Dante. He glanced quickly back at the window, and then back to Dante again, hurrying over to Dante and putting a firm hand on his shoulder as he pointed his sword accusatorily at the window.

Dante frowned. “What? What’s wrong?”

Vergil pointed at the window, looking at Dante and nodding towards it with a sense of urgency. He once again took up a fighting stance and growled, and glanced at Dante, as if expecting him to do the same. Dante, however, did not move from his decidedly un-combative slouch, brow furrowed with increasing confusion.

“Uh, ok… Look, I really don’t know what you’re freaking out about, but did you happen to see a blonde lady come by just now?” he repeated his question from earlier.

Vergil nodded furiously, once again pointing towards the window. Suddenly, something clicked in Dante’s mind.

“Oh! Is that what’s bothering you, Vergil?” he guessed. “Are you worried she’s dangerous?” Vergil nodded once again, looking relieved to be understood- Though he remained just as tense. Dante couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Aw, you don’t have to worry about that, bro! It’s just Trish. She’s cool. She won’t bother us.”

Vergil drew back slightly, and stared at Dante with a look as if Dante were completely out of his mind. Dante frowned. “What?”

Vergil met Dante’s gaze with wide eyes, raised brows, and a tight-lipped frown, gesturing towards the window and shaking his head. Once again, he took a fighting stance, and motioned for Dante to do the same.

Dante gave Vergil a sympathetic look. “Look, I get that you might be freaked out ‘cause she’s a demon, but Trish is on our side. Really. I promise everything’s fine,” he insisted.

Vergil stared at Dante with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. After a moment, he took a deep, long breath, clasped his hands together, and finally, he placed a hand quite firmly on Dante’s shoulder; He made sure he had Dante’s attention, and then looked him in the eye with a serious expression, shaking his head and growling while waving his non-sword hand in some vague-yet-urgent gesture that Dante couldn’t quite figure out. 

Dante stared blankly at Vergil.

Vergil groaned and smacked a hand against his forehead. With a huff, he stomped back over to the coffee table, grabbed the pen and paper rather unceremoniously, and hurriedly began to write. Once he’d finished his note, he held it out to Dante with an irritated look.

Dante raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Vergil’s writing.

_ The demon Trish is one of Mundus’ closest servants. She is not to be trusted on any account. _

Dante blinked several times, as if not sure he’d read right. “Wha-  _ Trish?  _ Working for  _ Mundus? _ No way. You’re shitting me.” He shook his head and leaned over Vergil’s shoulder, reading along as he continued, yet still not believing what he was seeing.

_ I assure you, there is no shit involved. Trish was created by Mundus with an unusually human-like form in order to- _

“There’s just no way,” Dante continued, still arguing even as he watched Vergil write. “I mean, she was the one who told… me…”

_ -Lure you to Mallet Island, which it seems was disappointingly effective. _

“...Oh my god, I’m an idiot,” Dante realized with a quiet groan, dragging a hand down his face in embarrassment.

Vergil nodded with an I-told-you-so look. That look would be heartwarmingly familiar if the situation wasn’t so fucked.

Dante heaved a long sigh, standing for a moment with his hand still pressed against his face as the full realization of his mistake set in. “God… Fuck… Ok, fine. Whatever. It’s- She’s gone now anyway, so whatever. It’s fine. If she comes back, we’ll deal with it then.”

With another sigh, he stumbled over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of tomato juice. He popped the cap, shook his head to clear it, and after a moment’s thought he turned to the old jukebox in the corner. He flipped idly through the albums inside until he found one he was in the mood for, and sat down on the couch, taking a big sip of his tomato juice.

As the music began to drown out the sound of the rain, Dante allowed himself a moment to simply relax, listening to the familiar tune and savoring the taste of tomatoes. He glanced up as he caught a glimpse of Vergil glaring at the jukebox in distaste.

Dante raised an eyebrow. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t like the Clash?” When Vergil responded only by growling slightly at the jukebox, Dante huffed. “Come on, it’s London Calling! This is a classic, man!”

Vergil grimaced and covered his ears. Dante rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Got all your taste in your mouth,” he muttered, but nonetheless turned the volume down slightly.

_ Slightly. _

Seriously, how could his own twin have such terrible taste?

Dante shook his head, trying to put Vergil’s absolutely heartbreakingly horrible opinions out of his mind as he finished off the last of his tomato juice. As he set the bottle aside, he noticed Vergil staring at him, and the memory of the previous night once again returned to his mind.

“...Oh. I… guess you’re probably wondering about yesterday, huh,” he realized quietly.

Vergil gave Dante a sympathetic look, and nodded slowly. Dante sighed, biting his lip as he prepared himself for a conversation he wished he didn’t have to have.

“Right… Uh… First of all, I’m… I’m sorry about the things I said last night. I said some shit that was pretty uncool, and that wasn’t fair to you, so I’m sorry.”

Vergil nodded, and sat down slowly on the couch next to Dante. His expression remained solemn, yet he reached for Dante’s hand, holding it gently in his unarmored hand and watching Dante expectantly. Dante gave a weak smile before continuing.

“So, as to why I said all that, uh… Well, truth is, I-” He paused for a moment, frowning slightly as he realized that he had no idea what he was trying to say. How  _ was  _ he going to explain things, anyway? There was no way in hell Vergil, who didn’t even know what pizza was, had any clue what depression or PTSD were. How the fuck was he supposed to explain that?

But Vergil was still waiting for an answer, so he was going to have to explain anyway. Somehow. Great. 

“...Uh. So, um, not gonna lie, I actually have no fuckin’ clue how to explain this shit, but uhhhh… Basically, I’m- I have kinda like, uh, like a sickness I guess you could call it? Except it’s not physical, it’s like, uh, brain stuff? Emotional?” he began, frowning and tilting his head in confusion. “And so I kinda- Oh, by the way, it’s not contagious, so don’t worry about that,” he added, interrupting himself. “Uh, anyway. Basically, human emotions aren’t always this much of a pain in the ass, but because I have Shitty Brain Disease, mine are like, fuckin’ all over the place, and sometimes certain topics or whatever make it worse. And sometimes it makes me think things that aren’t really true, and then later I look back and I think, ‘Wow, that didn’t make any sense.’ But so uh… Yeah, honestly I don’t even fuckin’ remember what made me freak out last night, but I’m not actually mad at you or anything, and I’m sorry for being a dick. Uh. Yeah.” He gave an awkward shrug as he finished.

Vergil sat there for several long moments, gazing down at Dante with thoughtful concern, before writing,  _ I am not angry with you. I could tell that something was wrong, but I did not know what. How did you contract this… disease? Is there not a cure for it? Is there something I can do to assist in ridding you of it? _

After reading Vergil’s note, Dante couldn’t help but burst out laughing, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Aw, hell, dude, I wish it were that easy,” he replied, shaking his head in amusement. As Vergil gave him a frown of concern, Dante took a breath and tried to compose himself. 

“Uh, anyway. It’s… hmm… It’s not really something that you ‘catch’, per se,” he admitted. “It’s something that some people get when they… uh… ...Have been through a lot of fucked up shit?” he added the last part hastily, giving an awkward smile and glancing away as if to ignore the subject.  _ That  _ wasn’t something he wanted to get into right now, to say the least. “But to answer your other question, nah, it’s not really something you can cure. I mean, sometimes it gets better with like, I dunno, therapy or whatever, I know some people take medication to help but I can’t afford that shit and it probably wouldn’t work on me anyway- Got that demon metabolism, you know,” he pointed out, patting his stomach for emphasis. “Makes drinking contests fuckin’ hilarious. But now I’m getting off topic.”

Vergil’s frown deepened.  _ I see. Is it because of what I did to you in the past? _

Dante gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away. “Boy, you sure like asking the hard questions, huh? I was reeeeally hoping you wouldn’t ask that,” he admitted, grimacing slightly. “Uh. Y-Yes and no..? I mean that played into it, sure, but… There’s a lot of stuff. Most of which isn’t in any way your fault. But, uh, can we go into it more later? I kind of just woke up.”

_ Very well. We shall speak more about it at a later time. But I will say that I feel it is important for me to know. _

Dante sighed, a tiredness to his voice. “Yeah, I know. You’re right. I’ll explain things later, I promise.”

Vergil nodded, seemingly satisfied with this answer. Dante remained silent for a few minutes, lost in thought, before shaking his head to clear it. No point in worrying about things now- Better to try to relax, go about his day as usual. Or as close to “usual” as was possible given the situation.

With this in mind, Dante moved from the couch to the desk, picking up a magazine and kicking his feet up on the desk. After a few minutes, he heard Vergil get up as well; He kept an eye on Vergil quietly, but otherwise ignored him as he continued reading his magazine. Vergil, meanwhile, shuffled over to the desk, first glancing over Dante’s shoulder to see what he was reading, then picking up a magazine of his own and flipping through it curiously. He frowned, and gave a small sigh, placing the magazine carefully back where he’d taken it from.

“Oh, that’s right… I forgot you can’t read,” Dante recalled, frowning in sympathy. “Do you want me to read something to you?”

Vergil paused for a moment to think about it before nodding.

Dante smiled. “Alright. What do you want to read?”

Another pause. Humming thoughtfully, Vergil grabbed the pen and paper from the coffee table to write his reply.

_ Master Mundus did not allow me to read, so I lack the experience required to form any preference. I trust you can choose something entertaining. _

Dante bit his lip, feeling a pang of heartbreak at this. How long had it been since Vergil had been able to do the things he loved? Still… At least Dante could reintroduce Vergil to his old favorites. That would be sure to cheer him up. (Dante hoped, anyway.)

“Here, I know what you’ll like: Some good old-fashioned Shakespeare,” he decided with a grin, putting his magazine down and heading to the bookcase. “Famous playwright and poet from the Elizabethan era. Super dramatic. There used to be this group that would do Shakespeare plays in the park every summer, Mom always used to take us to see them- Granted, I didn’t understand half that shit ‘cause it’s all old-timey talk, but you know, there was usually at least one murder scene so it was a good time anyway. And I never believed you when you said you understood it just fine.” He sat down on the couch, gesturing for Vergil to join him as he flipped through the old book.

Vergil took his seat on the couch, leaning over Dante’s shoulder and peering curiously down at the book. Dante’s Shakespeare treasury was heavy and worn, practically ancient, its leather cover slightly frayed at the edges from years of use. The old vellum pages, however, were in fairly good shape, save for a few stains here and there. Vergil watched curiously as Dante skimmed the table of contents.

“Hmm, let’s see… I’m thinking maybe let’s start with Hamlet,” he decided. “That one’s a classic. Lots of murder, it’s probably my favorite Shakespeare piece. They say Hamlet is ‘a four-hour play about a man who can’t make up his mind’,” he recounted with a nod as he flipped through in search of the right page. “It’s a lot more interesting than that, though.”

Vergil stared at Dante, waiting with patient curiosity as Dante continued to thumb through the pages. 

“Let’s see… Ah! Here we go. I guess I should probably explain the plot first,” he realized, glancing at Vergil. “Basically, this guy Hamlet, right? Prince of Denmark, he’s off at college, you know. Comes home and finds out his dad is dead and his mom married his uncle, and nobody told him any of that. So naturally, Hamlet’s pretty fuckin’ upset, but his mom and his uncle are like ‘Yeah well everyone dies eventually so stop being emo’, even though it’s been like, a month.” Dante rolled his eyes as he began his summary. “So then Hamlet’s buddy Horatio is like ‘Bro, Hamlet, dude, I totally saw your dad’s ghost bro,’ and Hamlet’s like, ‘Yo, whaaaat?’ so he goes to check it out, and his dad’s ghost is all ‘Aaaah, Hamlet, I’m a ghoooost, your uncle poured poison in my ear and now you gotta avenge me cause I’m in purgatory, ooooh! Oh but don’t kill your mom.’”

Vergil scoffed at Dante’s explanation, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Dante grinned as he continued. 

“Hamlet’s pretty freaked out, which is understandable. So he has this long ass soliloquy where he’s all, ‘I gotta avenge my dad, but I kinda don’t want to, and everything sucks and I kinda wanna kill myself, but I won’t cause uh, I’m Catholic and kind of a pussy?’ or something like that. But eventually Hamlet cracks under the pressure and just goes completely batshit. Which, again, understandable. So then a whole bunch of shit happens, there’s a play within a play, Hamlet’s mom and uncle try to exile him, he accidentally kills his girlfriend’s dad but he doesn’t really care- And  _ everyone  _ knows Hamlet did it, so they’re like, ‘Ok Hamlet, where’s the body?’ and he’s all, ‘Ooh, you’ll  _ never  _ guess, hehe!’ and then his girlfriend- Well, actually, I won’t spoil the ending, but suffice it to say the whole thing’s a mess,” Dante finished with a laugh. “Oh, and there’s also this random land dispute with Poland that even Hamlet thinks is dumb and irrelevant.”

Vergil stared blankly at Dante, brow furrowed in confusion. It was clear that he was completely lost. 

“...Eh, don’t worry, you’ll get it once we read it,” Dante assured Vergil, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyway, uh… Ah, whatever, I’ll skip the character list. I’ll just introduce them as they show up,” he decided as he ran his finger down the page. “Ready?”

Vergil nodded, and Dante smiled, reaching over to turn the music off. As Vergil leaned comfortably against his shoulder, Dante took a deep breath, clearing his throat and savoring the smell of the rain as he began to read.

“Act one, scene one. Enter Barnardo and Francisco, two sentinels…”

* * *

Vergil leaned forwards in his seat, gripping the edge of the couch tightly as he watched Dante with wide eyes. Dante held the book open in one hand, Rebellion in the other, lost in the moment as his gaze flickered back and forth between the script and the space in front of him.

“How now, a rat?! Dead for a ducat! Dead!” Dante snarled, stabbing at the empty air. In an instant, he changed position, now standing in the spot he’d been facing before, and seamlessly plunged the sword’s blade through his stomach; Vergil gasped in awe as blood sprayed across the floor, and Dante stumbled backwards, dramatically feigning shock and horror. “Oh, I am  _ slain! _ Aaagh-”

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Dante blinked at the sudden interruption, and immediately dropped character as he spotted Lady standing in the doorway. “Oh, hey, Lady! You’re just in time for the end of act three,” he greeted her casually, with a cheerful grin.

Lady stared at Dante in confusion and disbelief. “Dante, you’re bleeding,” she pointed out flatly.

Dante glanced thoughtfully down at the sword sticking out from his abdomen. “Hmm, yeah, I guess I got a little caught up in the scene,” he realized. With a shrug, he pulled Rebellion back out, grunting in pain and frowning slightly as a few drops of blood splattered onto the pages of the book. “Aw, shit, that’s like the third time I’ve gotten blood on this one…”

Lady continued to stare silently at Dante for a few minutes, a look of tired-yet-unsurprised exasperation on her face. After a moment, she gave a deep sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh, so you know Vergil’s a big nerd-”

Vergil did a double take, frowning at Dante and placing a hand to his chest offendedly.

“-But he doesn’t remember how to read, and that sucks. So I said I’d read something for him,” Dante explained. 

“Uh-huh. Which has… What to do with you stabbing yourself, exactly?” Lady deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“Well we’re doing Hamlet,” Dante replied casually. “Polonius just died. Got stabbed a whole bunch- Oh, hey! Since you’re here, do you wanna join in?” he suggested. “I could use someone to do Gertrude’s lines.”

Lady gave a snort of dry amusement. “Yeah, no thanks. Anyway, I came by because I wanted to talk to you.”

Dante frowned slightly. “About what?”

“About-” Lady paused, glancing at Vergil, who was still watching them from the couch. “About… You know. Stuff,” she said carefully. Dante could see the quiet concern in her eyes, full of unspoken questions, and his expression softened slightly.

“Yeah, I getcha… It’s gonna have to wait until after I finish Hamlet, though,” he told her.

Lady raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I’m in the middle of a play here! What, you expect me to just quit in the middle of the act three climax? I mean, look at poor Vergil here.” He gestured to Vergil in demonstration. “He doesn’t remember how the play goes. The suspense would drive him crazy.”

Vergil hummed in agreement with a brisk nod, and then shook his head at Lady, sighing and clicking his tongue as if to scold her for so rudely interrupting Dante’s one-man play.

“Like I said, you can totally join in if you want! Or you could just watch, that’s cool too. But I’m finishing the story either way,” Dante reiterated.

Lady paused, glancing between Dante and Vergil with a look of exasperation and uncertainty. For a moment, she almost looked as if she was going to simply leave, turning towards the door slightly- But then she looked at Dante again, and bit her lip slightly. She closed her eyes, gave a long sigh, and nodded.

“Yeah, ok, fine. I’ll watch,” she gave in reluctantly, and carefully set Kalina Ann down against the wall. “But I am  _ not  _ going to make myself look like an idiot acting this shit out,” she added, pointing a finger in warning at Dante.

Dante grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Enjoy the show, babe.”

Dante watched as Lady sat down on the couch, splaying out casually in the corner farthest from Vergil. Both watched expectantly as Dante turned his attention back towards the book in his hand, ignoring the newest blood stain as he searched for the next line.

“Let’s see, where was I… uh… Ah, here it is.” He adjusted his position, hastily imitating the last scene. “Right, so Polonius dies, oh I am slain, and then Gertrude-” Dante turned around again, pressed a hand to his cheek in mock horror, and read in a high, exaggerated voice, “Oh me! What hast thou  _ done?!” _

Lady struggled to hold back a laugh, prompting Vergil to shush her firmly, shooting her a quick glare before turning his attention back to Dante. Dante continued the scene, shrugging as he read the next line.

“Nay, I know not. Is it the king?” Again, Dante switched to an absurdly high tone, dramatically swooning. “Oh, what a rash and bloody deed this is!” Dante rapidly changed character yet again, glaring at the empty space next to him. “A bloody deed? Almost as bad, good mother, as kill a king and marry with his brother!”

“As kill a king?!”

“Aye, lady, ‘twas my-”

“Alright, alright, stop,” Lady suddenly interrupted with a laugh, shaking her head at Dante in amusement. “This is ridiculous. You’re just talking to yourself!”

“Well, yeah,” Dante replied, raising an eyebrow as he broke character. “Of course, maybe if  _ someone  _ would read it with me, I wouldn’t have to,” he added pointedly.

Lady snorted. “Alright, fine, you got me. I’ll help you read it,” she announced with a grin.

“Fuck yeah!” Dante exclaimed, giving a victory fistpump.

“But- Only on one condition.”

Dante glanced at Lady in surprise. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I get to be Hamlet,” Lady decided.

Both Dante  _ and  _ Vergil gasped, staring at Lady in shock. “Wha- No way! Hamlet’s my favorite!” Dante exclaimed. “Why should  _ you  _ get to play the leading role?!”

“Well, why should you?” Lady retorted simply.

“I-” Dante blinked, not quite sure how to respond to that. “...Because it’s my book?”

Lady shook her head. “Hamlet or I walk.”

Dante glanced indecisively between Lady, Vergil, and the book in his hands, before finally sighing. “Alright, fine. You can play Hamlet,” he muttered reluctantly.

Lady smiled cheerfully, making finger guns at Dante before hopping off the couch and taking the book from his hands. “Let’s see, where are we?”

“Last line was ‘Aye, lady, ‘twas my word’,” Dante reminded her.

“Right, got it.” Lady straightened her shoulders and took on a serious expression as she began to read. “Aye, lady, ‘twas my word. Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! I took thee for thy better,” she spat- Glancing at Vergil for just a moment, finding him still watching with just as much interest, before turning her attention back towards the script. “Take thy fortune! Thou find’st to be too busy is some danger…”

* * *

The group elected to take an intermission following act three, as the growling of Lady’s stomach became increasingly disruptive. The old Shakespeare treasury lay open on the coffee table as Dante, Lady, and Vergil split a hot pizza- Picked up by Lady this time, to spare the poor delivery guy another heart attack.

“So…” Lady started as she finished off a slice, “How did things go after I left yesterday?”

“What, after you ditched me?” Dante replied, sucking garlic sauce off of his fingers. “Vergil and I fixed the hole in the wall, as you can see, and then Vergil told me he wanted to write to me-”   
  
“Hold on,” Lady interrupted, looking between the twins who were sitting together on the couch. “He can write? Why didn’t he write anything before?”

The two looked at each other for a moment before Dante asked, “Hey yeah, why didn’t you try and write to me sooner, man? That would have helped a lot.”

Vergil actually looked somewhat embarrassed, but after wiping his hands on a napkin he wrote  _ A warrior requires no words, only his blade. _

“Oh give me a fucking break, dude!” Dante exclaimed in exasperation. “Just say you didn’t think about it!”

Vergil looked away and took another bite of pizza. God, he really hadn’t changed that much if he was going to act like that, huh?

“Anyway, me and Vergil started having an actual conversation about stuff like our father, but that made the armor start hurting him again, and after he came back from that I figured out that Mundus stole his humanity from him, and uh. I kind of. Had a little breakdown? But it’s fine now don’t worry.”

“What do you mean don’t worry?! Of course I’m worried, dumbass!” Lady hopped off of the desk and threw herself onto the couch on his other side, opposite Vergil. “One, you’re my friend, and two, it really freaks me out how fucked up you get after you have panic attacks and shit like that! Are you okay? Have you been taking care of yourself since then?” She leaned around him to glance at Vergil, who stared back warily. “Did he help you at all?”

Dante looked up at his brother, whose expression changed from wary to troubled as he turned his attention from Lady to Dante. “Yeah, Vergil was here for me. I gave him a hard time while I was feeling fucked up but he stuck with me. Thanks for that, bro.”

Vergil nodded, but the half-smile on his face betrayed his lingering concern, and he wrote  _ Her reaction implies that what happened last night has happened before. How long have you been experiencing these extreme bouts of emotion? _

“What’s he saying, Dante?” Lady asked, pointing to the writing. “This is demonic, right?”

Dante sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “He wants to know how long I’ve been having panic attacks, basically. He also wanted to know why I had one last night, but I told him I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.”

Lady laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to have to talk about it sometime, you know. I understand that it’s hard, but since he’s back now, isn’t this the perfect time to talk it out with him? He’s acting like he wants to listen, at least.”

Oh fuck. Now Lady was pushing too. This wasn’t going to end well.

Dante gave another frustrated sigh. “Yeah, I know, I _ know, _ but- Why does ‘sometime’ have to be  _ now?” _ he argued. “I said I wasn’t ready to talk about it, not that I wasn’t gonna talk about it ever. Besides, Vergil needs to rest more before I tell him anything that might make the armor go off again.”

Vergil frowned.  _ Is what happened between us truly so damaging that it would cause the punishment spell to activate? The things you are saying without saying are only increasing my concern, Dante. _

“Vergil-” Dante dropped his head into his hands, slumping forward. “Yes. Yes, okay? It really was that bad. I have panic attacks and just really bad days where I don’t want to get out of bed and don’t want to fucking be alive because it was that bad. So please. Let me like, get it together enough that I can talk about it later, alright?”

Vergil continued to frown but nodded, and Lady sighed. “Alright. I understand.”

“Thank you.” Dante sat up with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair as Vergil laid a hand on his back. “So what happened with you? Any news?”

“Dante, you’ve been gone for like, three days. Not much has happened. I mean, I saw Morrison yesterday but I didn’t mention that I had seen you because I figured you didn’t want any unexpected visitors, but that’s it.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Lady gave Dante a thumbs up. “So anyway… Now that Vergil can apparently write, have you learned anything new?” she wondered, casting a brief glance at Vergil, who stared back at her with his usual expression of vague disdain.

“Hmm…” Dante reached for another slice of pizza as he thought about it. “Not much that I haven’t mentioned, I don’t think? Oh, hang on, there is one thing- You remember Trish? That demon I told you about?”

Lady raised an eyebrow. “You mean the one who looks like y-” Dante interrupted with an incomprehensible spluttering noise, shaking his head rapidly and waving his hands, nodding in Vergil’s general direction. “...Uh, the one who looks like- a human?” Lady hastily corrected herself, giving an awkward cough.

Dante took a moment to finish choking on his pizza, before giving an overenthusiastic nod. “Yep! That one!” he replied, forcing a wide-eyed smile that looked like more of an awkward grimace, earning him a look of concern and suspicion from Vergil, which he pointedly ignored. “U-Uh, anyway, turns out she works for Mundus.”

“No shit?” Lady questioned, eyes widening in surprise.

Dante nodded. “Yeah, I said the same thing, but Vergil was all, ‘I assure you, there’s no shit involved’,” Dante feigned haughtiness in an exaggerated impression of Vergil. Vergil shot Dante a glare and a quiet growl of irritation, reaching once again for the pen and paper.

_ I do  _ _ not _ _ think I would sound like that,  _ he wrote, still frowning in distaste.  _ Nor is that specifically what you said.  _

Dante snorted and waved his hand in dismissal, making a mental note to avoid thinking about the implication that Vergil didn’t remember the sound of his own voice. “Details, details. Anyway, uh, yeah- Seems Trish showed up this morning,” he recounted to Lady. “I was in the shower at the time, so I didn’t see her, but I could sense that she was there. And then when I came downstairs, Vergil was all freaked out, and I asked him about it, and he said Trish is one of Mundus’ boss minions or whatever. Said Mundus made her look, uh, the way that she does, specifically to get me to come to his shitty island. So that’s… fun.”

“Wait, she was  _ here?”  _ Lady repeated. “You mean she was like, spying on you guys?!”

“I guess? She was gone by the time I came downstairs, but… I mean, I can’t imagine what else she would have been doing,” Dante sighed.

Lady frowned worriedly. “Well that’s unsettling… What are you going to do?”

“What  _ can  _ I do?” Dante replied with a shrug. “If she comes back, I’ll confront her, but other than that…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Next to Dante, Vergil glanced towards the window with a worried frown. His gaze traveled to Dante, and then Lady, brow furrowed in thought; He nudged Dante’s side gently, and then nodded towards Lady, once again beginning to write.

_ It may be wise for the lady woman to remain on alert for some time. If Master Mundus is aware of… our activities, and she is known to be a close ally of yours, she may very well become a target herself. _

Dante gritted his teeth at the unpleasant realization that Vergil was right. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there… Don’t worry about it, though. She can take care of herself.”

Lady raised an eyebrow, glancing questioningly at Vergil’s note. “Hmm?”

“Oh, Vergil was basically just saying you should be careful, ‘cause Mundus’ minions might try to come after you,” Dante explained. “Though I don’t think that’s exactly surprising, really.”

Lady snorted. “Yeah, uh, I’m…  _ touched  _ by the concern,” she told Vergil sarcastically, “But I kill demons for a living, pal. If Mundus wants to mess with me, fine. I could use the exercise anyway.”

Vergil shrugged, and turned away from Lady, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up in a clear “not my problem, then” gesture. After finishing off his last slice of pizza, he wrote  _ I would like another one of those bottles of strange-tasting blood you offered me yesterday. _

Dante raised an eyebrow at him. “Uhhh, what do you mean bottles of blood, dude? I don’t keep blood in the house since I don’t really need it.”

Vergil scrunched his face in confusion as Lady made a grossed-out face, and then wrote  _ Was it not a bottle of blood you gave me before? The red liquid. _

“Oh!” Dante exclaimed, getting up and walking over to the fridge in the corner, pulling out a bottle of tomato juice. “This isn’t blood, bro. It’s made out of tomatoes. Do you still want some?”

Vergil’s face fell and his lip curled in disappointment.  _ I see. No thank you. _

“Suit yourself, man. More for me.” Dante opened the bottle as he walked back to the couch and took a swig, then looked more closely at his brother. Vergil looked somehow even paler than usual, and though he had just eaten, Dante could sense a hunger emanating from his demonic aura. “Hey, are you alright? Something feels off about you today.”

His twin sighed, writing  _ Fighting the influence of the punishment spell has used up much of my strength. I need to replenish it with blood. Do you know of any source that won’t cause a scene? _

“Whoa whoa whoa, what do you mean a source? I’m not gonna let you just suck some random human’s blood, Vergil!” Dante cried out in shock.

“And I’m sure as hell not looking to be a donor, either.” Lady interjected. “Why does he want blood anyway? Is he going to go kill someone?”

Vergil glanced at her condescendingly.  _ I don’t want your blood anyway. Your aggravating nature would likely make it taste bitter. _

“He doesn’t want yours, Lady, don’t worry.” Dante rubbed a hand over his face and leaned his head back against the couch. “And I wouldn’t let him go kill anyone. Vergil, we’ve never needed to drink human blood before in our lives because we’re half human. Why are you saying you need it now?”

Vergil looked away, a pained expression on his face.  _ When Mundus made me into what I am now, he replaced much of my natural blood with demonic ichor.  _ He ran a finger over one of the blue veins on his face. _ Any benefit I would receive from my human half, such as not needing to consume blood, has been neutralized. _

Dante’s face filled with horror. “He what?! Is that why your veins are fucked up and your skin is all gray?”

Vergil nodded solemnly, and Dante slumped against his shoulder. Mundus just kept taking and taking from them... 

“Vergil, how about I just let you have some of my blood? It’s obviously not all human but it should work, right?”

_ I’m not sure, _ his brother replied after a moment spent blinking in surprise.  _ I suppose I could try it and see if there are any negative effects. _

“Dante, what the fuck!” Lady yelled, grabbing Dante’s arm and yanking him towards her. “Can you please tell me what’s going on instead of just ignoring me to have a weird two-sided-out-of-three conversation with a guy I can’t even understand?”

Dante looked over at her apologetically. “Sorry, Lady. Basically, demons need human blood for food, but me and Vergil don’t need it because we’re basically self-feeding due to being half human. But whatever Mundus did to Vergil replaced most of his blood with fucked up demon goo, so he needs to drink blood to recover from all the pain the armor’s been putting him through. So I’m gonna give him some of mine.”

“Ugh,” Lady grumbled, disgust plain on her face. “That’s messed up on so many levels. What are you gonna do, let him take a bite out of you or something?”

“No way, that would be super painful and way inefficient. I’ll just get a glass and cut my hand open.” Upon saying that, Dante got up from the couch and went into the kitchen to do so. “I mean cutting my hand open is still gonna hurt but at least it’s not a bite.”

Grabbing a large glass from the cupboard and a steak knife from the drawer, he cut a slow line across his palm, holding it over the glass to let the blood drip and pour into it until it was mostly full, then pulled the knife away to let his hand quickly heal. “Okay Vergil, let’s see how this goes.”

Vergil got up from the couch, bringing his pen and paper with him, and followed Dante into the kitchen, eyeing the glass of blood with awkwardness. 

Dante picked up on it immediately, nudging him gently. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, dude. It’s better than nothing, right?”   
  
Grunting in begrudging agreement, Vergil picked up the glass in his unarmored hand and took a sip before humming thoughtfully and gulping down the rest. The two of them waited several moments after Vergil put the glass back down, then Dante asked, “So how do you feel? Good? Bad?”

* * *

Nelo Angelo immediately felt a rush of… something as he finished the glass of Dante’s blood. It definitely tasted different from regular human blood, but not in a bad way. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t fed recently, but his throat felt drier than before, even as he felt a modicum of strength returning to his limbs. He needed more blood. More blood would make him stronger, give him more power…

The glass he had just drank from was painfully empty. But the source was right next to him…

Nelo Angelo turned his gaze on Dante, who tensed up nervously. 

“Vergil? What’s wrong?”

He could practically hear the man’s blood rushing through his veins, calling to him in a way that was familiar and one that was new. He had freely given Nelo Angelo a bit of sustenance, and as his kin, surely he was entitled to more?

His... kin. His brother! Dante, whose shoulders he was suddenly gripping so tightly he could feel the bones grind against each other under his hands! No, he mustn’t stoop so low to ripping his own twin apart! Never!

Nelo Angelo let go of Dante and pushed him away, unable to hear what he cried out as the sound of pumping blood grew louder in his ears and the armor abruptly activated as it sensed his defiance of his demonic urges, the crackling of the punishment spell’s lightning drowning out what little other sound that remained.

No, not now! Not now!

* * *

_ For the first time in what must have been several hours, Dante took a breath. A slow, careful, quiet breath, ever so quiet, quiet enough that he prayed he wouldn’t be heard. _

_ The hazy light that filtered between the slats on the closet door indicated that it was daytime- When exactly, or how long it had been, Dante didn’t know. Time felt… Broken. The demons had been gone for a while; He could sense it somehow, a change in the air, a tension broken like the change in air pressure after a thunderstorm. But he still hadn’t been able to bring himself to come out, too afraid of the possibility that they might come back. _

_ Would they come back? He could tell the demons were all gone (how he could tell, he didn’t know- It felt like how he always knew when Vergil was around- He didn’t understand and he wasn’t ready to think about it), but were they truly gone for good? Or were they just trying to fake him out, to lure him out of his hiding spot by making him think it was safe, waiting to ambush him the second he stepped foot outside the closet?  _

_ He didn’t know. And that was why he’d waited until they’d left, and then waited a little while longer, and then waited some more after that. Just to be safe. He’d waited, hidden, still and quiet like his mother told him, unmoving even as the flames ate at his body over and over. But he was tired, now, and hungry, and his body was growing sore from being curled up for so long… As terrified as he was, he couldn’t stay in that closet forever, and it seemed like a relatively safe time to venture out. He hoped. _

_ He found himself holding his breath once again as he carefully, slowly pushed the closet door open. He heard it creak slightly, and he froze, eyes going wide and heart racing in his chest; After a few seconds of nothing happening, though, he deemed it safe enough, and hesitantly continued opening the door. _

_ Dante carefully stepped outside the closet, placing his feet down ever so slowly, one, then the other, as if testing that the ground wasn’t about to collapse beneath him like everything else had. Finally, he was out. _

_ Out. _

_ For several minutes, he simply stood there, blinking silently as he glanced around at the charred remains of the bedroom. What now..? What was he supposed to do now? Where was he supposed to go? How was he even supposed to start..? _

_...A weapon, his brain supplied distantly. That was what he needed. Something to defend himself, in case… In case… _

_ Yes, he’d find himself a weapon, and then… What else did he need? Vergil. Of course. He needed to find Vergil. He felt a pang of pain in his heart at the thought of his brother; He hadn’t seen Vergil since before the attack, nor had he felt the calm, warm feeling he always got when Vergil was around. The last he’d seen Vergil had been when Mom had been scolding them for fighting, and Vergil had run off, probably to the playground or somewhere… Vergil hadn’t come back after that, and Dante could still hear the way his mother had screamed his twin’s name, the fear and desperation in her voice echoing through his head like a knife. _

_ Dante bit his lip as he began quietly making his way towards his father’s study. If only he hadn’t bothered Vergil… _

_ His body moved almost automatically, and his mind seemed to struggle to catch up. One way or another, though, he suddenly found himself in the remains of the study. It had been quite thoroughly ransacked, weapons and books and knick-knacks that hadn’t been touched in years strewn all over without rhyme nor reason. Even his father’s favorite chair had been reduced to little more than some scattered, charred bits of wood and upholstery. Not that Dad was around to care about it, anyway… _

_ A glint of metal caught Dante’s eye, and a familiar skull grinned out at him from beneath a pile of rubble. Dante hurried to pull the blade out, breathing a sigh of slight relief as he unearthed the familiar sword. _

_ Rebellion. That was the sword’s name. His father had told him once that it would be his someday, when he was old enough for it. Was he old enough now? Almost certainly not- The sword was taller than he was, awkward and clunky in his tiny hands, but it didn’t matter. He needed something stronger than his wooden play sword to defend himself, and Mom and Dad were gone, which meant that it was his sword now. He clung to it like a lifeline, wrapping both hands around its handle and holding it close to his chest. _

_ He’d found his weapon. Yes… Rebellion would keep him safe. Now, all he needed to do was find Vergil. He’d find Vergil, and he’d tell him how sorry he was for nagging him so much, and then they’d escape together. As long as they were together, everything would turn out ok in the end. _

_ But first, he had to find Vergil… Again, his mother’s screams echoed through his mind, but Dante pushed them back. He’d be able to find Vergil. They were twins. He could always find Vergil. He had to find him… _

_ Dante’s body trembled as he began hesitantly making his way out of the study, dragging Rebellion along with him. “Vergil?” he called out, barely more than a whisper at first, and then a little louder. “Vergil? Wh-Where are you?” _

_ A sound caught Dante’s attention- A sound that wasn’t Vergil- And he whirled around with a small gasp, immediately lifting up Rebellion and holding it out in front of him with shaking arms. “Who’s there?!” _

_ A handful of birds flew up, out through a hole in the ceiling. That was all it had been, Dante realized, and he bit back a sob. God, he was so scared. He- _

_ A rumbling sound interrupted Dante’s thoughts, and he jumped out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit by a large chunk of ceiling. He stood frozen in place for a moment, breathing heavily, glancing around in search of any other potential hazards; Clearly, the house was still far from done falling apart. _

_ He took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to get away from the house. Vergil probably wasn’t inside, anyway. _

_ One way or another, Dante managed to make it safely outside, dragging Rebellion along through the ashes that blanketed the lawn. He set out without hesitation towards the playground, where he knew Vergil often spent his time when he wanted to be alone. _

_ “Vergil?” Dante called out as he walked. “Vergil, are you out here? Hello? Listen, I- I-I’m sorry I bothered you- Vergil?” _

_ No reply came, only the chirping of the birds and the wind whistling in his ears. Dante’s heart sped up along with his pace, and he wondered if the grey blanketing the sky was a stormcloud or ashes. _

_ As he continued to walk, the distinct lack of Vergil’s presence filled Dante with an ever-increasing dread. Where was he? Shouldn’t he have been around somewhere? Dante stumbled slightly as he reached the playground, and- _

_ Blood. _

_ There was so much blood. _

_ Dante’s eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. There was hardly an inch of grass that wasn’t caked in dried blood. Which meant… which meant… _

_ “No,” Dante gasped quietly as he fell to his knees. “No, this can’t… You can’t… Vergil!” he called out. “Vergil, please!” _

_ No response came, and it didn’t matter, because Dante already knew. Vergil, his brother, his twin was dead, and if he hadn’t run off in anger, he wouldn’t have been killed. Vergil had run away because Dante had made him angry, and Mom had gone after Vergil, and now they were both dead. It was all Dante’s fault. None of it would have happened if he’d left Vergil alone, but he didn’t, and now Vergil was dead. _

_ Vergil was dead, and Dante had killed him. _

_ Dante’s body shook violently, and he doubled over, unable to keep from vomiting onto the blood-stained grass as he broke out into hysterical sobs.  _

_ “Vergil! No, you ca- You can’t be dead! Ve- V-V-Ver, Vergil, please- Vergil please- I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, I won’t- I won’t bother you anymore, I-I won’t- Please!” he wailed. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me! Vergil!” _

_ A crack of thunder echoed overhead, and Dante’s tears blended with the rain as he curled up on the ground where his twin had lost his life. _

* * *

Fear. Loneliness. Deepest despair.

He felt like he was trapped in a whorl of anguish, with the center of it being the hollowness in his chest, which ached more painfully than ever before. He couldn’t see through the tears in his eyes, which poured relentlessly down his face.

Was that his own voice he heard screaming sobs, forehead pressed to the floor and hands clenched into fists as he barely kept himself from collapsing? Was it the howling coming from his chest as he shook with pain? Was it his young brother’s desperate cries as he realized what had befallen them?

Their home had been attacked. Their mother had been murdered by demons. Dante had been left all alone, and he...Where had he been? Dante had thought him dead, but that obviously wasn’t true. He could not yet remember his own experience of this horrible moment, but he dreaded its return to his conscious mind. 

Surely he had not abandoned his twin in their mutual hour of need? The thought made him choke on a nauseous sob. No, that couldn’t be true. He loved Dante too much to leave him behind.

A gentle hand laid on his bare shoulder, and Nelo Angelo could finally make out the voices ringing out around him.

“Vergil! Vergil, please talk to me! Lady put the damn gun down!”

“He was attacking you, Dante!”

“And now he isn’t anymore, so put it away!”

He lifted his head, a monumental task as it was pounding with pain and felt like the most heavy thing in both this world and the underworld, and looked up at his brother’s face. Dante met his gaze and gave him a soft smile that was meant to comfort him but only made more tears escape down his cheek from its tenderness. 

“It’s okay Vergil,” Dante murmured, the love and concern in his voice unbearable. “You’re safe now. I don’t know what you saw, but whatever Mundus did to you back there, it’s over now.”

Oh. Dante presumed his agony was from a memory of his master. No. This kind of torture could not be inflicted physically. He shook his head, and his brother looked confused.

“Are you still seeing it?” he asked, tilting his head in worry. 

Again Nelo Angelo shook his head, but this time, he lifted his fists from the floor and pulled Dante into him, pressing his face into his hair and undoubtedly beginning to soak it with his tears. Seeing it? No, though the images of their destroyed home and the blood were seared into his mind. Feeling it? Yes, his twin’s utter misery in the memory synchronizing with his own now. Hearing it? Yes, because young Dante’s grieving screams still rang in his ears.

He wasn’t going to leave him. For both of their sakes, he would never leave him again.

* * *

Whatever Dante had expected his blood to do to Vergil, this wasn’t it. 

Dante had been concerned and, admittedly, a little bit unsettled when Vergil had suddenly grabbed him, staring at Dante with an almost animalistic look and gripping his shoulders tight enough to almost certainly crush the bone a little bit (not that a broken shoulder meant much more to Dante than a papercut), but what worried him even more was what had happened next. Vergil had pushed him away as he came to his senses, and it wasn’t a huge surprise that the armor’s enchantment activated soon after that, but the effect seemed… Different, this time. And not in a good way. 

The way Vergil had reacted to the spell was far more intense than before. He’d collapsed completely and started just… Screaming. Screaming, and crying, unresponsive even as Dante tried to snap him out of it and Lady threatened him like an insensitive idiot. The pain and grief in Vergil’s voice hurt Dante’s heart; What had Vergil seen to make him react this way? What had Mundus done that was somehow  _ worse _ than what Dante had seen the first time?

Just thinking about it made Dante feel nauseous. But he did his best to keep it together, putting on a reassuring smile even as his heart raced with dread. Vergil needed him right now, and the way Vergil had suddenly latched onto him attested to that.

“It’s ok, Vergil. You’re ok now,” Dante told him quietly, reaching up to gently stroke the back of Vergil’s head, even as his mind raced trying to figure out what to do. Vergil had said he wasn’t seeing… Whatever he’d been seeing anymore, which was… Good..? Yet he was quite clearly still deeply shaken up. That was, unfortunately, something Dante could relate to, even if he didn’t know what exactly Vergil had seen.

“...Listen to me, Vergil. I know how it feels when… When you can’t stop remembering things you don’t want to think about,” he began, taking a deep breath. “But you have to keep telling yourself it’s not real, ok? Please. I know it’s hard, but you have to remind yourself that it’s over now. And- And sometimes it feels like it isn’t, and I know that, but I promise you, it is. It’s all over,” he repeated, wrapping an arm around Vergil to hold him close. “You’re safe now. I promise. I won’t let Mundus- Or anyone else, ever hurt you again. I mean it.”

Vergil shook his head once again, and Dante frowned slightly, but tried not to let his worry show too much. “I know, dude, I know. But it is over, I promise. It’s only a memory. You never have to go through that again,” he assured him, with sincerity in his voice. “You’re safe now, I-”

Dante blinked in surprise as Vergil pulled back slightly. Vergil put his hands on Dante’s shoulders, far more gently this time, and stared at him silently with worry and grief in his eyes; He touched a shaking hand to Dante’s heart, and Dante watched as Vergil gritted his teeth, another round of tears bubbling up in his eyes.

Dante tilted his head in puzzlement, giving Vergil a gentle smile. “Me? I’m fine. I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, but you don’t have to worry about me, alright?” he promised, and shot a quick glance over his shoulder as Vergil continued to stare at him. “Hey, get a glass of water, would you? And make sure it’s a plastic cup,” he told Lady quietly.

Lady frowned, glancing between Dante and Vergil, still holding her gun by her side; After a moment’s conflict, her gaze settled on Dante, and softened slightly in sympathy. “Fine,” she sighed, and reached up to the overhead cabinets.

As Lady turned the faucet on, Dante gently took Vergil’s unarmored hand in both his own, running his thumb along the back of Vergil’s hand comfortingly. “See? I’m fine. Everything’s ok now.” Lady silently handed the cup of water to Dante, who in turn held it out to Vergil. “Here, drink some water, ok? It’ll help.”

Vergil yet again shook his head and instead shoved the glass towards Dante, nodding for him to drink it instead. Dante gave a quiet, half-hearted laugh. “Thanks, but I’m not thirsty. You’ve been crying a lot, though, so you should have some water. Please?”

Vergil frowned, but as Dante once again offered the cup to him, he reluctantly took it. He brought the cup to his lips with trembling hands, splashing water everywhere, but managed to take a few sips, choking the water down with half-sobs. Dante smiled.

“See, there you go. Better?”

The plastic cup bounced harmlessly to the ground, trailing water across the floor as Vergil took a moment to breathe. He kept his eyes on Dante, and again Dante watched his lip curl in sorrow as he once again pulled Dante close.

Dante sighed, allowing his calm attitude to slip for just a moment as he rested his head against Vergil’s bare shoulder. “What’s got you so worried about me, bro?” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Vergil sighed wearily, affectionately pressing his cheek to Dante’s hair before pulling back with obvious reluctance and reaching up to the counter for his paper and pen. His hands trembled so much that it took him several moments to actually write anything.

_ I did not see my own memory. I saw you. _

Dante’s gaze snapped up to meet Vergil’s and found only sorrow in them, not the judgement he feared. “Vergil… What did you see about me?”

_ Our home had been attacked by demons. Mother was killed. You hid alone for what felt like days, and when you finally came out, I was not there. You presumed me dead as well, and I could feel your pain.  _ Several more tears ran down Vergil’s face.  _ Why was I not with you? _

Dante took a sharp breath in. “I… I honestly don’t know. You never told me, and… I never asked.” He averted his gaze, going quiet for several long moments before sighing. “I guess I can’t put it off any longer, huh…”

“Dante?” Lady questioned gently, giving him a concerned glance. Vergil, too, watched Dante with a similar expression.

Dante nodded slowly, and put a hand on Vergil’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go sit down.”

As Vergil and Lady followed Dante into the living room, Lady frowned slightly, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Um… So, do you, uh… Do you want me to go, or..?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Dante replied with a small shrug- Though Lady seemed to understand exactly what he really meant, as she gave a solemn nod and placed a gentle touch on his arm. Dante sighed, grateful for the comfort.

Dante sat down on the couch, and Vergil and Lady took their places on either side of him, watching him expectantly with nervous expressions. For a few minutes, he simply sat with his head in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts; He felt Lady place a hand on his shoulder, and he took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes as he finally looked up.

“I guess I should probably start from the beginning, huh,” he muttered, glancing up at Vergil. (God, it hurt so much to see that face…) 

“Uh, so… Our father… was never really around much,” he began hesitantly. “I mean- He was when we were like,  _ little  _ little, but then one day he just…” He trailed off, shaking his head with a shrug and a sigh. “No idea what happened to him, to be honest. Mom never told us, and whenever we asked she’d just kind of dodge the question. Uh…” he paused, his throat feeling rather dry, but swallowed the feeling. “I dunno. I guess eventually we just kinda figured Dad wasn’t coming back. Whatever. Um- Believe it or not, we didn’t actually know about the whole, you know, demon thing?”

Vergil gave Dante a questioning look, eyes widening in surprise. Dante shrugged.

“I dunno, man, Mom and Dad never told us. Guess maybe they wanted to protect us or whatever- Look how well  _ that  _ turned out,” he added with a bitter, nervous laugh. “Honestly, looking back, it seems kind of obvious, like all the signs were there, but… Well, we didn’t really hang around other people much, so we just kind of assumed all our weird shit was normal. Didn’t really- I didn’t start piecing it all together until I was on my own. Broke some poor kid’s arm and everyone flipped the fuck out and I didn’t know why. But uh, I guess I’m getting off topic now,” he admitted, taking a deep, shaky breath and running a hand through his hair again.

God, he’d barely even started and already his heart was racing. His stomach felt heavy and twisted, his head a tangled mess of horror; Lady seemed to sense his distress, as she ran her hand up and down his shoulder gently. Vergil, too, took Dante’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently. Dante sighed, trying to let the sensation ground him.

“Right… so… Uh. Truth is, I-” he glanced at Vergil, and then quickly looked away again, biting his lip and swallowing the familiar guilt and fear that bubbled up in his throat. “I- I wasn’t- ...See, I always wanted to play with you, yeah? But you… You liked to do other stuff, like- Y-You really liked to read, and um- I didn’t really respect that. I was always nagging you to play. So, um, the day that… It happened, we- We’d gotten in a fight. And.” Fuck, he’d really hoped not to start crying so soon. “You were angry at me… You ran off. Outside.”

Vergil gave a quiet gasp, face falling as he realized the implications of what Dante had said. Dante clenched his jaw tight, fighting back a sob. He had to finish explaining.

“M-Mom hid me in the closet, and then she went to look for you, and-”

He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Dante covered his face with one hand as the tears began to flow, his other hand clinging tightly to Vergil’s. Lady slipped an arm around Dante’s shoulder, pulling him gently to her side, and he allowed himself to lean his head against her with a quiet whimper.

“If you need me to help explain, I can,” she told him quietly, reaching her hand up to stroke his hair.

Dante took a trembling breath, and shook his head. “I’ll do it,” he insisted, and slowly sat up, heaving a long sigh and wiping his eyes. Lady gave a nod of understanding as both she and Vergil waited for him to continue.

“...So, u-um… Right, so like you saw, uh, I- I thought that you were dead. For… A long time.” Dante bit his lip as he cast a glance at Vergil. “I kinda wandered around, became a devil hunter eventually… And you… I don’t really know what you did. I didn’t see you again until ten years later. You-”

Dante paused as Lady nudged him gently in the side. He frowned, glancing at her in confusion. “Hmm?”

“Look, uh… I don’t wanna go butting my head in your business, but…” Lady frowned and nodded towards Vergil. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to tell him like,  _ everything  _ everything? Including uh, certain things about certain items?”

Dante sighed. “Yeah, I- I get where you’re coming from, but… He has a right to know. And I trust him… I think.” He glanced at Vergil for a moment. “If anything happens… I accept full responsibility.”

Vergil frowned, reaching for the pen and paper again.  _ I am uncertain of what sort of allegations the lady woman is making against me, but I assure you I have no intention to harm you, nor anyone who is not our enemy. I must know what happened in our past.  _

Lady leaned over to glance at the paper with a frown. “What’s that say?”

“He says he’s not going to attack anyone who’s not an enemy,” Dante explained. “I’m gonna keep going now, ok?”

Lady nodded, though she still watched Vergil with caution. Vergil frowned at her for a moment, and then turned his attention back to Dante, waiting patiently.

“Basically… You wanted this.” Dante gently touched the amulet that hung around his neck. “You- You had one, too. They were a present. From Mom. Our eighth birthday.” A barely-present bittersweet smile crossed Dante’s face for just a moment, before he frowned once again. “We didn’t know it at the time, but… Turns out, the two amulets together were part of the key that opens the demon world. And you…” Dante gave a bitter laugh. “You wanted power. Demonic power.”

As Dante spoke, Vergil’s eyes widened in slow realization. He touched a hand to his chest- Where his own amulet would have been- And looked to Dante with an expression that suggested a question he almost didn’t want to ask.

“Dunno when exactly it all started, but you wound up working with this uh, I dunno, some creepy human guy-”

“My father,” Lady interrupted with a grumble of irritation. This certainly seemed to come as a surprise to Vergil, who raised both eyebrows at her.

Dante nodded. “Right. So- You and, uh, dickface, you wanted to- Uh, there was this evil demon tower thing? It was called Temen-ni-Gru. Our pops sealed it away back in whatever-the-fuck-B.C., along with, uh, his power or whatever, I guess… And you wanted to unseal it so you could open the portal. So, to do that, you needed my amulet.” Dante sighed. “You tried to steal it from me- Uh, there was this whole weird thing with like, a rabbit? I don’t really get it… Whole thing didn’t make any sense… But I got my amulet back for a while.” He spoke in a tired mutter, pressing a hand to his forehead as he tried to remember all the details. Tried to keep it together enough to explain them.

“I didn’t see you for a year after that. Which, apparently, was enough time for you and shithead to finish your- You know- Uh, evil scheme or whatever. Because… You got the damn tower. And then you lured me there so you could take my amulet.” Dante took a shaky breath, idly watching the way his hands trembled in his lap as he fought to keep his focus. “We-”

Dante was interrupted by a crack of thunder from outside, and he jumped as the rain picked up, drumming relentlessly against the window with the same frantic pace at which his heart beat, at which his whole body shook. He gripped the leg of his pants tightly with a gasp, eyes going wide.

“I- I-I’m sorry, I… N-need a minute,” he managed to choke out, curling in on himself as the rain pounded at his head like a hammer, bringing with it the words he’d heard over and over again in his darkest nights.

_ So this is what they call a heartwarming family reunion. _

_ Why do you refuse to gain power? _

_ Might controls everything. And without strength, you cannot protect anything, let alone yourself. _

“Dante?” Lady prompted, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s ok. The rain’s just rain. You’re alright.”

Dante gave a shaky nod, saying nothing. Right. Just rain…

“Do you want me to take over from here?” Lady asked gently.

Again, Dante nodded silently, whimpering quietly as he allowed himself to collapse against Lady’s side.

Lady sighed, and wrapped her arms around Dante, rubbing his back comfortingly before looking towards Vergil. “It was raining that night, too,” she began quietly. “I hadn’t made it that far up yet, so I don’t know all the details, but… You and Dante fought, on top of the tower. And somehow, you won. From what he’s told me, you stabbed him with his own sword and left him for dead after taking his amulet,” she recounted, not bothering to hide her glare. “That was when Dante developed his devil trigger. Alone. Because you left him bleeding out on the top of the Temen-ni-Gru and ditched.”

* * *

Nelo Angelo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That he had attacked and manipulated his own brother of his own free will to serve evil ends and gain power… How could it be true? But he knew from Dante and the woman’s words and expressions that they were not lying. 

But why? Why had his past self done this? What was the point of becoming powerful if it came at the cost of his twin’s life?

_ I do not understand.  _ He wrote frantically. _ Why did I do these things to you? Why did we not stay together after finding each other? It does not make sense to me that I would want to hurt you. _

Dante sniffed, taking his time to read Vergil’s statement before replying, “I don’t know Vergil. I’ve had a long time to think about it and I still don’t know why. I mean, I’ll admit I was never your favorite person to be around, even when we were kids. Maybe it’s because I drove you away that day. I… If I-I hadn’t been such a shitty brat, you wouldn’t have run away from home, and we…” He choked up again. “We would have all been together and-and-”

“Hold on a minute, Dante,” Lady cut in. “You can’t blame yourself for something like that. It’s not your fault!”

“Lady-”

“No, Dante! I’m sick of hearing you blame yourself for things you didn’t do! You’re not the one who ruined your lives! Mundus is! Mundus is the one who had your family attacked, so blame him!”

Mundus.

Everything slowed down around him. Mundus. She had said Mundus was at fault for the horrific memory he had seen. He looked down at Dante. Dante wasn’t denying or refuting it, so it must be the truth.

His master, Emperor Mundus, had ordered his hordes to attack their family home, which led to the death of his mother and the separation of himself and his brother. 

Logically, it made sense. As the mate and spawns of the traitor Sparda, it only made sense that they would be targeted. Surely the two nestlings would grow up to be threats like their father. Better to crush them while they were young and weak.

Mundus likely hadn’t expected them to escape. Must have expected them to die, drowned in their “tainted” blood. Drowned… in their blood…

Time caught up with him all at once. The woman was tugging on Dante’s arm, looking between the two of them with apprehension. Dante was staring up at him with...fear? Why? This feeling rising inside of him, spreading from the hold in his chest, was not meant for Dante. It was meant for the demon, the  _ monster _ , that had destroyed their family. Once he regained his strength, Nelo Angelo would punish Mundus for what he had done them, to  _ him _ . 

But that thought too was detected, and Nelo Angelo damned Mundus again as the punishment spell activated, and then damned himself as he realized he was still clutching Dante’s hand.


	7. Weeping Child, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> Thank God Alex finished DMC5 so i don't have to worry about spoilers anymore
> 
> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> Thank god I finished DMC5 so I don't have to worry about spoilers anymore! Anyway, this chapter and chapter 6 were originally meant to be one and the same, but it got so absurdly fucking long that we had to Yamato 'em into two chapters. They are still absurdly fucking long. Enjoy!

_ “Stupid Dante!” Vergil grumbled to himself as he stomped towards the playground. He threw himself onto one of the rocking horses, glad to finally be alone, and reached for… _

_ “My book…” He must have left it behind when he ran away from the house. Ugh! This was all because of Dante being so annoying! _

**_A pool of dark ichor bubbles up through the ground nearby. The servants of Mundus rise from it and draw their attention to their prey._ **

_ “He just doesn’t know when to give up. It’s not like I ever promised him or anything! Even Mom believes him. It’s always my fault because I’m older, even though he’s the one always causing trouble.” Vergil sighed, declaring, “It’s all Dante’s fault.” _

**_The child is alone. They draw their blades and raise them high._ **

_ A chill ran down his back as he felt a foreboding presence behind him. Usually, the only presence he felt was his twin’s, but this was the exact opposite of Dante’s warm, familiar aura. Something was wrong. Vergil looked up and dodged on instinct as three swords descended towards him, each meant to give a killing blow that smashed the rocking horse he had been sitting on. But his assailants were no ordinary people, they weren’t even human! Their disturbing forms could only mean that they were- _

_ “Demons?!” He cried, stumbling over himself to avoid their attacks and running as fast as he could from the playground. Where had they even come from?! “Why are they here?” More and more dark auras rose at the edge of his senses. More demons? What was happening?  _

_ He approached the hill, his breath ragged but his legs still carrying him just ahead of his pursuers. “I have to warn them! Mom and Dante are still at home…” _

_ But home was burning.  _

_ As Vergil crested the hill, he stopped running and stood numbly as he saw the mansion in flames. Had the demons made it here first? Was he already too late? _

_ In his shock he had forgotten the demons chasing him, but was horribly reminded by a sword plunging through his back and out his chest. He gasped in pain as the sword was yanked out and he fell to the ground, clutching the wound with one hand while the other reached out towards his home. _

_ “Dante… Mom…” _

_ He whimpered as another sword was stabbed through his outstretched hand, and he realized the pain he was about to experience as he lay helplessly on the ground, seeing the shadows of the demons raising their blades over him once more. _

_ He screamed for help. He screamed in agony. He screamed and screamed and screamed as they stabbed him again and again as tears streaked down his face. But no one came. No one heard him. No one saved him. Not his mother. Not his brother. No one. _

_ He screamed until he choked on his own blood. He was drowning in it, soaking the ground as the demons finally were satisfied and left him lying there, limp and dull-eyed. Everything was dark, his body shrieked in pain. _

_ But he was not dead yet. _

_ He reached out his stabbed hand again, vomiting more blood. The demons were heading towards the burning house. _

_ “I can’t ask anyone for help...I...I have to do something…” Maybe his mother and Dante were still alive in there. He couldn’t just let the demons continue to invade. He needed to defend his home, needed the strength to protect himself. _

_ “Power…” he whispered, bleeding hand grasping the air. “I need…” _

_ His fingers closed around a hilt. The hilt of the sword his father had given to him before disappearing, the heirloom that was meant for him and only him.  _

_ “Yamato?”  _

_ In the midst of his fear, pain, and torment, Yamato was the only one to answer his call. The last gift his father had left him. It was as if he had prepared to see Vergil protected even if he could not be there himself. _

_ He took the sword in both hands, feeling its power fill him. Rising to his feet, he drew Yamato and attacked with natural precision, cuts so sharp the first demon fell apart into pieces before it could retaliate.  _

_ Vergil felt calm, like something had awakened in him upon taking hold of his promised blade. Yes, this was the might he needed. Tearing off the tattered remains of his shirt, he stared impassively through the blood and hair in his eyes at the remaining demons as they noticed he was still alive and leapt to assault him once more.  _

_ “Fine. I’ll do it alone.”  _

_ Again he drew his sword, slicing through the monsters with ease. The blood soaking him was no longer just his own.  _

_ The demons’ remains disintegrated into nothing and Vergil finished his slow walk up to the mansion, his feet dragging as his wounds slowly mended themselves. The house was completely enveloped in flames. Where were his mother and Dante? _

_ He reached out one hand, trying to feel for his twin’s presence. He and Dante could always find each other. But now… there was nothing. The auras of demons roaming the area overwhelmed him, leaving no trace of his little brother for him to sense. The thought made tears burn his eyes all over again. _

_ Was Dante dead? No, surely he would have felt it if Dante had been killed, right? Had Dante… escaped without him? He had been with their mother last; had she helped him escape without waiting for Vergil to return? Was the reason that no one came to help him was because they were already gone? _

_ The flames redoubled as a part of the house collapsed, and the heat evaporated the teardrop running down his cheek. Very well. If he was to be abandoned, then there was no reason to remain in the wreckage of a destroyed home that had cast him aside. _

_ Vergil turned his back on the mansion and walked away. _

* * *

By the time Dante had realized what was happening, it was already over. He sat frozen on the couch, eyes wide, the silhouette of the burning house still ablaze in his mind as the last waves of the spell crackled out of existence. The lingering thoughts of the pain Vergil had experienced made Dante’s stomach twist with nausea.

_ Vergil thought he’d been abandoned. _ That was why he hated Dante. He’d tried to find Dante at the house, despite everything, and Dante hadn’t been there to meet him, because he’d been too stupid and scared to move from the closet his mother had left him in. Vergil had fought through all those demons- All that pain- He’d fought alone, and what had Dante done? Cowered in a corner, too pathetic to protect his family. Crumpled and out of the way, like a worthless scrap of garbage.

All these years, Vergil had truly believed Dante had turned his back on him. And he had. Dante had abandoned his twin in favor of his own survival, like the monster he was.

“Oh, god,” Dante whispered, voice trembling as he bit back nausea. “Vergil… I…”

Looking to his side, Dante found Vergil just… Sitting, his face pale and drenched with sweat as he stared distantly ahead. Vergil turned towards Dante with wide eyes at the sound of his name, and for a moment Dante saw a flash of hatred in his gaze- And then something else, something Dante couldn’t place, as Vergil’s brow furrowed and he pressed a clawed hand to his face. Vergil took a deep breath, and reached for the pen and paper, hands shaking as he wrote.

_ I require time alone to gather my thoughts. I will return later. _

Dante’s eyes widened in horror, a wave of dread hitting him as he read Vergil’s words. “Oh, no- No no no- Vergil, wait!” he blurted out, latching desperately onto Vergil’s arm as Vergil slowly began to stand up. “Wait, please, I- Vergil, I’m sorry! I never meant- I’m sorry- Vergil, please! Don’t go! _ Vergil!” _

Vergil sighed, a solemn look on his face as he carefully peeled Dante’s hands away from his arm and stepped out of Dante’s reach.

Dante could only watch silently as Vergil walked away, just as immobilized by fear as he had been that night. As Vergil turned towards the stairs, Dante saw Lady watching him with open-mouthed shock.

“Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Don’t you fucking walk away from this!” she shouted after Vergil. “Get your ass back here, you son of a bitch! Don’t you dare just leave Dante like this!”

Vergil cast a weary glance back towards the two of them, and shook his head slowly. His gaze remained downcast as he made his way up the stairs, disappearing into the hall.

This was it, Dante realized. Everything was happening exactly as he’d feared.

This was the moment where he lost Vergil again. 

Dante gave a quiet, nervous chuckle. “This is it. I knew this was going to happen. Everything’s going exactly the way I expected it to,” he whispered, not even sure who he was talking to. “I find Vergil, bring him home, he gets his memories back, and- And he remembers how much he hates me. And he leaves. I knew from the beginning, and still I…”

“Dante?” Lady questioned softly, and for a moment, the concern and caution in her voice confused Dante- Until he ran a hand down his face, and saw it ripple with energy, scales running down his wrist and fading away again as if his own body was confused about what it looked like. Again, he laughed, and took a deep breath.

“Tell me something, Lady… Do you know why devils never cry?” he began, voice shaking.

“...Because it’s not something they’re capable of..?” Lady guessed, though her confusion was clear in her tone.

Dante avoided eye contact as he shook his head. “Wrong. Devils never cry because they ain’t got nothin’ to cry about,” he replied simply. “They don’t do anything that doesn’t- They only do things that serve their self-interests. They kill, and they feed, and they fight for territory… That’s it. Not like humans. Not like me,” he muttered, and even with his eyes closed he could feel his body shifting meaninglessly, his demonic blood trying to protect him from an enemy that could not be fought physically. An enemy that didn’t exist, because the root of his problems was only himself.

Lady sighed worriedly next to him. “Dante-”

**_“I’m too damn human, Lady,”_ ** Dante continued, his voice echoing as if to taunt him.  **_“Always doing things for other people, when I know damn well it’ll only get me hurt… Vergil was right about me. I’m- I’m a stupid, weak, cowardly human, and-”_ ** He paused, taking a deep, shaking breath and wiping at his eyes with a clawed hand.  **_“That’s why I’m always crying.”_ **

“Dante, you gotta snap out of it already.” Dante felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and finally looked up, as Lady met his gaze with a serious look. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck Vergil said to you, but-”

**_“He thought I abandoned him, Lady.”_ **

Lady blinked, eyes widening in surprise. “What?”

**_“And- And I did,”_ ** Dante confessed, choking back another sob. **_“I should have gone back for him, but I- Vergil needed me, and I just- I just stayed in that stupid closet, because I was selfish and weak and-”_ **

“Dante, you were  _ eight goddamn years old!”  _ Lady interrupted in horror. “You were a _ child,  _ and you were scared!”

**_“SO WHAT?! SO FUCKING WHAT?!”_ ** Dante snapped, and Lady jumped, startled.  **_“So was Vergil! He was all alone out there, he fought all those fucking demons while I hid like a FUCKING coward and I- And I-”_ **

All the energy suddenly seemed to drain from Dante’s body at once, and he slumped over forwards, his head heavy with the weight of his guilt and grief.

“I should have been the one to die back there. Not Mom. Not Vergil. It should’ve been me,” he whispered, and buried his face in his hands as the sobs overtook him.

He felt Lady wrap her arms around him, and made no move to resist, his body going limp as he cried quietly into her shoulder. Lady said nothing, but held Dante close, rubbing his back comfortingly while he fell deeper and deeper into the ocean of despair.

* * *

How was he supposed to feel after seeing that?

He hadn’t been sure what to expect of his own memory of the worst day of his life, He knew from Dante’s experience that “worst” was the correct way to describe it, but now that he was aware of what had happened to his younger self and why Dante had been alone after the fire… He almost wished he didn’t remember.

His mother and brother had left him behind. But he knew they hadn’t. His mother had only saved Dante. But she had died looking for him, calling his name. His brother never came looking for him. But he was just as scared as his young self had been, most likely sent into shock by the loss of their mother so close to where she had hidden him.

But why hadn’t Dante emerged when he approached their home? Had he had the same problem, where the suddenly large amount of other demonic auras had kept him from sensing his twin? Nelo Angelo did not know the answer for sure, but the result was what was most significant: he and his brother had been unable to find each other for years, and had met again as enemies because of that.

He could still feel the deep, searing betrayal and loneliness from the memory. No one had heard or listened to his cries for help besides the Yamato, and he had been forced to fend for himself. His mother had most likely already been killed by the time he reached the house, so she wouldn’t have heard him anyway. 

That realization caused a low, pained noise to escape between his gritted teeth. His mother. Would that he could tell his young self how wrong his assumption had been. His mother hadn’t abandoned him. She had been cut down in search of him. He could not yet recall her face, but he knew she had been one of the most important people in his life, and he had loved her dearly. He wasn’t sure what was worse: incorrectly believing that she had loved his brother more than him, or knowing that she really did care about him but had been unable to save him. 

His mother had been only human. Fragile, weak, unable to defend herself against the demons sent to kill them all. And he had been too late to protect her from them. It was only because of Yamato that he’d even been able to protect himself. 

_ Might controls everything… _

And as for Dante… As much as he hated to think about it, the bitterness and resentment his past self must have felt could have been what led him to make attempts on Dante’s life if it was allowed to fester. That his anger and desire for power would make him turn against his own twin… But then, at that point he must have seen it as a betrayal for a betrayal. But having seen Dante’s memory and heard his and the woman’s description of the events of the past, he knew now that he had been incredibly wrong, and his misconceptions, decisions, and actions had harmed his beloved brother irreversibly. 

Seeing the tears on Dante’s face and knowing he was the cause for them made the hollowness in his chest sting so sharply he thought he would start crying again himself. Had his father been aware of all of the pain that came with being human when he chose one for his mate? Did he know what he would be inflicting his children with? Did he think that they would find the highest highs of love and happiness worth experiencing the lowest lows of despair and hatred?

Nelo Angelo sighed, holding his head in his hands. The deep hurt from his memory of the attack still lingered, despite that he logically knew that there was no reason to bear a grudge against his mother and brother. By the way Dante had reacted to him leaving the room, he must have expected Nelo Angelo’s reaction or worse upon his remembrance. What could he possibly say to him? Where would he even start?

His thoughts were interrupted by the woman barging into the room, her face full of fury.

“You… Ungrateful, inconsiderate, self-centered- Heartless, uncaring-  _ Low-life son of a bitch!” _ she spluttered angrily, and- Nelo Angelo blinked as something suddenly collided squarely with his face, taking him off guard and knocking him backwards slightly. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes to find the woman wide-stanced with her fist clenched, body seething with rage, that he realized just what had happened. 

She… Had  _ punched _ him? This woman- A mere human, weak and fragile and powerless- Had been bold enough to attack him, Nelo Angelo, with only her bare hands? Was this woman, Dante’s self-proclaimed ally, truly so astoundingly foolish? What would drive her to do such a thing? He stared at her blankly, too utterly baffled to retaliate.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How the hell could you just  _ leave  _ him like that?!” she demanded, a burning rage in her expression that, if Nelo Angelo was being honest, was more than on par with some of the demons he’d battled. “Do you have any idea what he’s been through? What he’s been through because of  _ you? _ Do you even realize how much he fucking cares about you, even after everything you’ve done to him?! Do you have  _ any fucking goddamn clue _ how he lives his life  _ because of you?!” _

Again the woman struck at Nelo Angelo, and this time he was ready, catching her fist before it could reach him- Yet he made no move to retaliate, simply watching her with wide eyes.

She was no fool, he realized. No; What she was was courageous. This woman… This “Lady”, as Dante had called her- This human woman was loyal enough to Dante to defend his honor at a knowingly great risk to herself. To put everything on the line to punish Nelo Angelo for the ways he had slighted his brother.

Annoying though she may have been, Nelo Angelo couldn’t help but respect her courage and devotion. Perhaps not all humans were so pathetic after all.

Still, this was no time to acknowledge a worthy warrior. The Lady woman’s rebuke was far from finished, and she tore her hand away from Nelo Angelo without so much as a moment’s hesitation as she continued to shout.

“You fucking  _ saw  _ how fucked up Dante is after everything he’s been through. Oh, sure, he’ll act like he’s having a great time, haha funny pizza freak or whatever the fuck, but you know what? It’s not funny! It’s not  _ fucking  _ funny when he spends all his time sleeping because he can’t stand being alive, it’s not fucking funny when he drinks fucking rat poison because it’s stronger than booze, it’s not funny when he takes stupid unnecessary risks because his _ own fucking life _ doesn’t matter to him- And it sure as hell isn’t fucking funny when he has panic attacks every other fucking  _ day  _ and then acts like it isn’t a big deal! And do you know  _ why  _ he does all that shit?!”

Nelo Angelo stared silently, solemnly, with no answer to give. The howling pain in his chest already knew, and he sat down quietly on what remained on the bed, waiting for the truth he wished he didn’t have to hear.

Lady leaned in closer, teeth clenched as she pointed a finger in firm accusation at Nelo Angelo. “He does it _ because. Of. You. _ Dante has spent his  _ entire fucking life _ blaming himself for everything,” she snarled. “He’s spent the past twenty fucking years hating himself, calling himself a monster- Fucking  _ berating himself  _ for the goddamn  _ crime  _ of having been a fucking terrified child just trying to stay alive- And now you’re fucking reinforcing all of that! You know damn well that what happened wasn’t Dante’s fault. I thought that even a heartless, murderous piece of shit like you might have some tiny shred of sympathy left for his  _ own fucking family, _ but apparently I was wrong!” she spat.

She whirled around angrily, stomping across the room as she continued unleashing all of her rage upon Nelo Angelo with her words.

“But you know what? Dante never stopped caring about you. Not when you treated him like shit, not when you went on a genocidal rampage, oh no. No, even after you tried to  _ fucking  _ kill him and left him for dead, he  _ still  _ tried to save your ass as soon as he saw you were in danger! The same fucking night! And this is how you repay him?! You don’t deserve his love!”

Nelo Angelo drew back, eyes widening at that last statement. Dante had what..? Just what had-

“Oh, and don’t you give me that fucking ‘wah wah I have amnesia’ bullshit,” Lady interrupted Nelo Angelo’s train of thought with venomous sarcasm, rolling her eyes at his expression. “It doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to tell Dante was upset just now, and you just fucking walked away! He  _ begged  _ you not to go and you just ignored him!” Nelo Angelo watched, stunned, as she stomped towards him, slamming a foot down on his knee and leaning over him threateningly. “You just fucking showed Dante that everything he’s been afraid of is real and he’ll always be alone, and you don’t even fucking care, because you’re an evil, selfish, manipulative piece of shit who _ should have just fucking stayed dead!” _

For a moment, there was an eerie silence, the last of Lady’s furious screams echoing off the walls and ringing in Nelo Angelo’s ears. Both stared at each other with wide eyes, Nelo Angelo unmoving, Lady trembling and breathing heavily as her simmering rage still lingered.

“You’re lucky I don’t fucking kill you,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “The fact that  _ I  _ actually care about Dante is the only thing stopping me from putting every last bullet in my arsenal through your fucking brain.”

Nelo Angelo’s shoulders slumped. That his brother was so distraught and hurt… It was even worse than he had thought. And it was his fault. He had driven Dante to such despair, and he was doing it even now. And after he had just promised himself he wouldn’t leave Dante again...

The pain in his chest ached so much in that moment that he pressed his unarmored hand to his breastplate in an attempt to relieve it. He gritted his teeth as another wave of agony emanated from it, and a _ CRACK! _ not unlike one he had heard before rang out. A noise escaped him as he wondered if this was how his twin felt all of the time.

“Dann...te…”

The sound of his brother’s name scraped harshly across his ruined vocal cords, and Lady seemed startled that he’d spoken at all. 

“Did you just say ‘Dante’?” she asked, her hushed voice a contrast to her previous volume. “Can you actually talk?”

Nelo Angelo shook his head, laying his unarmored hand on his throat. She understood what he meant easily, inquiring, “It hurts you to talk then?”

He nodded. Lady sighed, taking her boot off of his knee and crossing her arms. “I guess that explains some things. But you can still write, so you need to go back in there and start apologizing to Dante.” She narrowed her eyes at him in a piercing glare. “And if you leave him like that again, I  _ will _ shoot you. Maybe not fatally, but I’ll make it fucking hurt.”

Nelo Angelo nodded once more. Though he would do everything in his power from now on to do right by Dante, he would hold her to her word should he fail.

He stood up wearily from the bed, heaving a deep sigh. Where would he even begin? Probably with the apology for abandoning Dante to his grief only minutes ago, as it was the most recent affront to his twin. He left the bedroom, Lady following close behind him, and trudged back down to the main area of the downstairs to find him.

Dante was lying lengthwise on the couch, so still and quiet that for a moment Nelo Angelo feared the worst. But no, he was alive, just staring up at the ceiling with empty eyes. He didn’t appear to notice their return until Nelo Angelo leaned over him in concern, but when he did, a hollow smile spread across his face. Nelo Angelo did not like that expression, and liked what Dante said even less.

“Vergil,” Dante murmured, his voice hoarse from crying, “I have an idea. I know I have stupid, shitty ideas all the time, but this one will work out for both of us.” He reached a hand up and Nelo Angelo automatically held it in his own. “I know you won’t want to stay here now that you know the truth, and I ain’t got much to live for. So please, kill me.”

Nelo Angelo recoiled at his brother’s words, but Dante continued, “Mundus wants me dead, right? So you’ll be doing your duty, and I won’t be a burden to you and everyone else anymore. And I can…” He gave a hiccuping sob and his awful smile wavered. “I can join Mom and Dad wherever they went. Just… Just make it quick, okay?”

This was horrifying. How was he supposed to respond to his twin asking for some kind of twisted mercy killing? He shook his head rapidly, looking around for his pen and paper and grabbing them with his free hand. 

_ I’m not going to kill you. _

He held up the paper to Dante, who frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you think it’s a good plan? Everyone gets what they want.”

_ That is not what I want at all. I don’t want you to die.  _

“But…” More tears began to pour down the sides of Dante’s face. “Don’t you hate me? I’m the reason why you were separated from Mom. If I hadn’t driven you away that day, then-then-”

“Dante, what the fuck?!” Lady blurted out, eyes wide with horror. “That’s- I- You can’t just ask him to do that! That’s so fucked up! Dante, please, don’t talk like that. You’re… You’re really starting to scare me now,” she admitted in a quieter tone.

Dante sighed, not even glancing over at Lady. “All the more reason to get it over with,” he muttered. “If I’m gone, then you-”

“No, shut up. I don’t want to hear any of that. You’re my best friend, Dante. I couldn’t stand losing you,” Lady insisted. “And- And besides, Vergil has some things he’d like to say-  _ Don’t you?” _ she added, glancing at Nelo Angelo with a predictably threatening look; Nelo Angelo nodded, and Lady turned back towards Dante. “See? Come on. At least listen to him.”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Nelo Angelo began writing again.  _ Dante, I apologize for leaving you alone when you asked me to stay. I should not have been so callous when you were in obvious distress. _

_ Furthermore, I wish for you to know that I do not blame you for what happened when we were children. The fault lies solely with Mundus. My younger self did resent you, and possibly even hated you. But I was wrong to do so, I realize that now due to seeing both of our memories. I do not hate you. I love you, Dante.  _

_ Please believe me. Your life is not worthless. What I want is for the both of us to find a way to be free of our respective torment without resorting to unnecessary measures. You needn’t feel guilty or harm yourself for my sake.  _

Dante sniffed loudly and scrubbed at ever-falling tears as he read Nelo Angelo’s response. “Vergil… Do you really mean it? You don’t hate me?”

Nelo Angelo nodded, slowly and solemnly. He put the pen and paper down and softly wiped Dante’s tears with his unarmored hand. His twin leaned into the touch, and Nelo Angelo was relieved to see a spark of life return to his eyes. 

Dante took a shuddering breath and looked back down at the paper, reading it again. “I believe you’re not lying to me. I guess I just… I’ve been scared of the idea of you hating me forever for a long time, so you telling me otherwise right now feels like a dream. A part of me doesn’t want to hope too much that it isn’t. So uh, be patient with me if I start crying again, okay?”

Nelo Angelo nodded once more, giving Dante a slow smile. The two of them had many internal wounds, but reconciliation between the two of them was a good start to healing them. 

Dante gave him a tiny smile back, and the love that swelled in Nelo Angelo was so great he almost didn’t notice the vambrace on his left arm fracturing and falling off. It hit the floor with a  _ CLANG! _ and disintegrated, leaving his forearm bare along with his already naked left hand.

They all stared down at the large pile of dust for a moment, surprised by the sudden noise. Nelo Angelo held up his arm, examining the pale skin and raised dark veins. A small gasp came from Dante, who grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm stretched out towards him, pointing at a large, black boil halfway up his forearm. Oh.

“Vergil, is that’s what Mundus replaced your blood with?” Dante inquired quietly, eyes fixed on the boil.

Nelo Angelo nodded and picked up the pen with his free hand.  _ Yes, it is demonic ichor.  _

The expression that slowly formed on Dante’s face was what Nelo Angelo could best describe as a mix of determination and hope.

“I’ve got an idea, okay? At the rate you keep breaking the armor off, we’re gonna get you back to normal in no time. I just need you to trust me.”

Perhaps Nelo Angelo should have felt more apprehension at the loss of another part of what had kept him strong and relatively protected for all these years. But his twin’s sudden energy was infectious, and he nodded readily. Despite his bitter memories and their long time apart, loving Dante came naturally to him, and trusting him just as naturally. It felt only right.

* * *

Lady felt a little glow of warmth in her heart as she watched the brothers talk, especially when they reached out and held each others’ hands. Good. Dante deserved some relief and happiness, and hopefully this moment of it would lead to more. 

...Though, given how fucked up the two of them were, it was probably up to her to keep them on track when shit like this happened. Oh well. That’s what friends were for, she supposed.

As Lady watched the two, she found her gaze drifting towards Vergil, and frowned thoughtfully. Their conversation (if it could be called such) upstairs had… Left her slightly shaken up, if she was being honest with herself. It wasn’t as if she had ever known Vergil personally; She’d encountered him only briefly, during the Temen-ni-Gru incident, which didn’t exactly leave a good impression. She knew Vergil only through what little Dante had said about him- And, perhaps more tellingly,  _ how  _ he said it and when. Along with the things he never said.

Truth be told, in many ways Vergil had never been a person in Lady’s mind, not after so many years of being friends with Dante. No, the Vergil she knew was not a person, but a reason. Vergil was the tears Dante had cried that night, and every time Dante muttered about how he should have been able to save him. Vergil was the days where Dante would stare blankly at the wall and speak only in an empty monotone. Vergil was Dante’s panic attacks, the way Dante would fall asleep on the couch just to avoid life and then wake up screaming, the nights where Dante would drink half a bar’s worth of alcohol and then steal Lady’s nail polish remover, and drink that too and complain that he was still conscious. Vergil was the way every time someone commented on Dante’s ability to come out unscathed from situations that damn well should have killed him, he’d seemingly react with neither pride nor remorse, but idle disappointment. Vergil was not a person, but the thing that had tormented Dante for twenty years. Lady hated him, and she hated the way he hated Dante, and she hated the way Dante hated himself.

Even after meeting Vergil face-to-face, it had been easy to keep thinking of him that way. After all, this “Vergil”, with his massive, hulking form, his eerie red eyes, and lifeless grey skin, looked nothing like a person. He sure as hell didn’t look a thing like his supposed identical twin- Even Dante’s demon form looked completely different from the  _ thing  _ that now occupied the shop. And though that  _ thing  _ seemed to be protective of Dante, he remained an enigma, never uttering a word to Lady. Instead, her mind filled in the blanks, each silent glare seeming to confirm her views.

That is… Until just moments ago.

The way Vergil had abandoned Dante as he’d begged him not to had fit perfectly with Lady’s image of Vergil- Though that didn’t mean she was going to stand for it. The furious rant she’d given Vergil in the bedroom had been the culmination of years of resentment, and she’d fully expected him to roll his eyes and shoo her away, cold and stoic and uncaring as predicted- And yet, somehow, he… Hadn’t? No, on the contrary, he’d seemed… Genuinely remorseful. That alone would have been enough to throw Lady for a major loop, but the surprises didn’t end there.

_ Dann… te... _

Lady shuddered slightly at the memory of the first, and only, thing she’d heard Vergil say since his return. The sound he’d made had been pretty horrifying, distorted and scarred and viscerally  _ wrong, _ unsettling even to a veteran devil hunter like herself. Vergil had genuinely seemed to be in pain, both physically and emotionally, and his responses to Lady’s questioning confirmed that. Yet he’d been moved enough to try to utter what was unmistakably Dante’s name.

That moment had changed things for Lady, like a sudden wake-up call to reality. For the first time, Vergil existed not as simply the name and face to which Lady put all Dante’s trauma, but rather a  _ person, _ with his own thoughts and feelings. Not the incarnation of evil, but Dante’s beloved brother. A person.

And if this Vergil was a person, then… Something deeply, truly, terrifyingly awful had been done to him.

Lady chewed her lip as she watched the two of them, crossing her arms and wondering what she could do to help. They both looked terrible- Which was understandable, considering the horror they’d just been through. And from what Dante had said, it sounded like the previous day had been pretty rough, too… God, poor Dante needed a damn break already. And Vergil… If he really had been captured and brainwashed by Mundus, then he’d probably experienced nothing but horror over the past nine years. Much as she never would have thought such a thing possible, Lady couldn’t help feeling bad for him. Yes, they  _ both  _ needed a break, a chance to experience something positive for once.

That settled it, then. Lady would simply have to take matters into her own hands and cheer the boys up, Mundus be damned. They were going to have a fun time, come hell or high water.

“Dante,” Lady began, waiting to make sure he was listening before continuing. “I’m going out. I need to pick up a few things. I’m going to stay with you for a while, do what I can to help out with- All this,” she said, gesturing in the twins’ general direction.

Dante frowned. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I never said I did,” Lady replied with a shrug. “But I’m going to anyway. You’re my friend, and I want to help, because that’s what friends do.”

For a moment, Dante looked conflicted; His exhaustion seemed to win out, though, and Lady saw an expression of relief wash over his face.

“Alright, if- If you’re sure. And, uh…” He paused, glancing away and taking a deep breath. “Listen… Thank you. For everything,” he muttered quietly.

Lady gave a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it. And, hey… Be nice to yourself while I’m gone, ok?”

“Yeah. I’ll try.”

Lady hesitated for a moment, watching Dante quietly, slightly reluctant to leave him- Even if only for a little while. Still, she pulled him in for a quick goodbye hug, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead as she pulled away. “I’ll be back soon. Take care of yourself, Dante.”

“Yeah.” Dante nodded, and sighed as Lady headed towards the door. “See you later, then.”

* * *

As the door clicked behind Lady, Dante was startled by Vergil tapping him on the shoulder and handing him a piece of paper he had written on.

_ What was that thing she did to you before she left?  _

“Huh?” Dante asked, raising an eyebrow. “What thing do you mean, Vergil?”

_ The thing she did to your face. Was it some kind of protective spell? _

“A spell? What? Are you talking about when she kissed me on the forehead? She did that because it’s a way friends show affection. Family too.”

Vergil made a strange face, then wrote  _ I’m not sure what you mean by ‘friends’. It seems to be like a close ally, is that correct? _

“Wh- Vergil, do you not know what friendship is? Friends are people who like each other a lot and want to spend time together doing stuff they enjoy.”

_ Doing what? Tactical planning? Training? _

Oh this was. A lot to process. Had Vergil not had any friends growing up without him? He definitely couldn’t have made any in the Underworld. “No, man, like, things you do just for fun. Talking, watching TV, going to the movies, getting lunch. Those are just some basics, but stuff like that.”

_ And not for any strategic purpose?  _ Vergil asked, still looking a bit confused. 

“No, dude,” Dante sighed, trying to come up with a better explanation. “It’s like… family you’re not related to? A bond you choose instead of one you’re born with. Does that make sense?”

Vergil paused, thoughtfully bringing his unarmored hand to his chin, before nodding once.  _ I believe it does. Thank you for explaining. I think I understand Lady better now. _

Dante sighed, relieved to not have to somehow figure out some other way to explain the concept of friendship. He found his gaze drifting towards Vergil’s unarmored hand, frowning as he took in the sight of Vergil’s newly exposed forearm; Vergil’s arm was gaunt and emaciated, looking almost as if it had been stretched out (...Which, he realized, it probably had, given that Vergil seemed to have somehow gained a good foot or so of height since he’d last seen him), covered by the same cold grey skin. And, of course, it was impossible to ignore the thick blue veins that ran the length of his arm, weaving through a rather grisly-looking boil of what Vergil had confirmed to be demon goop.

“...Hey, Vergil,” Dante began, gently nudging him. “Is your arm, like… Ok? Does it hurt?”

Vergil paused, tilting his head and examining his arm thoughtfully, as if not sure how to answer. He poked at the boil experimentally, and frowned slightly, picking up the pen to answer.

_ I suppose as a whole it feels no better nor worse than the rest of my body. It does seem a bit sore here. _ He pointed to the boil as Dante read the note.

Dante sighed, crossing his arms and frowning at the boil. “Mm, yeah, I figured… I get a feeling that goop Mundus put in you isn’t exactly doing you any favors,” he said sarcastically. “Man… You know, as gross as this sounds, I wonder if we should try to, like… Pop it? Get some of that shit out of you?”

Vergil recoiled slightly, making a face of visceral distaste at this suggestion. Still, he paused to think about it.

_ Possibly. However, I’m uncertain if such a treatment would be helpful or harmful, or if it would ultimately have any effect at all. If you think it a good idea, I have no objections, but I cannot say for myself what the outcome might be. _

Ok, Vergil had a fair point. Again, Dante stared in thought at Vergil’s arm, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Eh, I mean… What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’re gonna bleed out from popping a glorified zit. Best case scenario, it helps somehow, worst case scenario… I dunno, it grows back? Might as well try it, right?”

Vergil shrugged, a response which Dante took as agreement.

“Well, let’s give it a shot, then. Sit tight, I’m gonna go grab some stuff.”

Vergil nodded, and Dante set off in search of the necessary supplies. First, an old towel, just in case any gross demon goop and/or blood dripped onto the couch. Easy enough. Bandages, on the other hand, were significantly more difficult to track down, seeing as Dante himself healed far too quickly to ever bother with them; After a fair amount of digging, he managed to find an old box of bandaids, which he was fairly certain he must have bought during a bout of depression just for the fact that they had Kirby on them. Whatever, they’d get the job done. Maybe Vergil would like one with Meta Knight.

Finally, Dante paused for a moment as he wondered what would be the best stabbity tool for the job. Something thin like a needle, maybe..? No, that probably wouldn’t do jack shit, Dante realized. Unless all the shit that had been done to Vergil had somehow changed this, half-demon skin was a bit tougher than most. (Although this, to Dante’s eternal frustration, somehow never seemed to protect him from the primeval dark forces of papercuts. Maybe he ought to start using magazines as a weapon… Ah, but he had more important things to think about right now.)

For lack of any better ideas, Dante grabbed a random dagger, and brought his things over to the couch.

“Alright, this is probably gonna be pretty gross,” he admitted to Vergil, as he spread the old towel out over the arm of the couch. “Here, put your arm out.”

Vergil did as requested, though his look of hesitation and mild discomfort mirrored Dante’s own. Dante sighed, gave Vergil a sympathetic glance, and gritted his teeth as he carefully began to push at the boil with the tip of the dagger.

To Dante’s relief, it didn’t take much to pierce the skin of the boil. Immediately, a thick, blue-black liquid began to leak out- And Dante gave a hiss of surprise and pain as the goop suddenly shot up and solidified into spikes, taking aim right at his hand.

“Hey! No! Bad demon goop. Fuck  _ off,”  _ he growled, retaliating with a concentrated burst of his own demonic magic. This seemed to do the trick, as the spikes immediately dissipated like steam; Dante saw Vergil wince, and frowned worriedly at him. “You ok, Vergil?”

Vergil nodded, and Dante sighed in relief. “Well, that was annoying. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

Vergil sat still and patient while he waited for Dante to finish his impromptu and extremely unlicensed surgery, frowning in discomfort but giving no objections as Dante carefully squeezed out the remainder of the ichor. Fortunately, it no longer seemed violent, the majority of it boiling away into nothingness as it touched Dante’s fingertip- Evidently, it did  _ not  _ like Dante’s vibes. No wonder poor Vergil seemed so tired and hungry, if his veins were full of shit that just really did not mix well with his blood.

When nothing else seemed to come out, Dante put the dagger down with a sigh. “Alright, gimme a sec and I’ll get you cleaned up,” he told Vergil, and hurried to the kitchen to wash his hands.

A minute later, Dante returned with a damp paper towel. He wiped Vergil’s arm down, dried it off, placed a cutesy pink bandaid over the remains of the boil (Vergil was just going to have to deal with that), and finally asked, “How do you feel?”

Vergil flexed his hand and arm, raising an eyebrow at the bandage but not complaining.  _ It feels… different? I’m not sure if better is the right word yet. Perhaps it needs time to heal properly. I am unsure how my natural healing will affect it. _

“Then I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out. In the meantime, we should probably give you some more of my blood to drink. Hopefully nothing weird happens this time…”

* * *

Dante yawned, blinking his eyes open at the sound of the door and wondering when he’d even fallen asleep in the first place. Vergil seemed to be in the same boat, sluggishly sitting up from where he’d been slumped against Dante’s shoulder and glancing towards the door in confusion.

“Yo,” Lady greeted the pair with a wave, placing several bags down on the floor. “How are you holding up? Everything go ok while I was gone?”

“Mm… Yeah, I guess,” Dante replied, yawning once again. “Welcome back.”

Lady smiled, and began unpacking some of the bags. “So, good news. We… Are going to have a slumber party,” she announced.

Dante blinked. “We are..?”

“Yes, we are,” Lady repeated, with a tone that was both cheerful yet slightly threatening. “You two need to take a damn break from all the drama and do something fun, so since I’m going to be staying over anyway, I figured we might as well make it a real party. I brought plenty of stuff.”

Dante continued to stare blankly, stunned and still half asleep, as Lady pulled out a variety of things and began dumping them on the coffee table: A makeup bag, a box of popcorn, several cartons of ice cream (Which Dante had to admit he was intrigued by), a box of playing cards… As this continued, Dante heard the scratching of a pen, and glanced over at Vergil.

_ Where are we going? _ Vergil wrote.

Dante frowned in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Vergil glanced over at Lady and her collection of party supplies as he answered.  _ She said we’re forming a party, did she not? I’m uncertain as to how these items will aid us, but I would like to know where we’re going and what enemies we may face. _

“Wh-” Dante fought back a laugh as he realized what Vergil meant. “N-No, not  _ that  _ kind of party, dumbass,” he corrected him, shaking his head in disbelief. “A slumber party. You know, a sleepover?”

Vergil stared at Dante for a few seconds, brow furrowed in confusion, before responding.  _ I am unfamiliar with this concept. What good will it do to sleep during combat? _

This time Dante  _ really  _ couldn’t maintain his composure, and Vergil huffed, crossing his arms and pouting slightly as Dante doubled over with laughter. Lady raised an eyebrow in amusement at Dante.

“What’s so funny? What’d he say?”

“He- He thinks we’re talking about, like… An adventuring party?” Dante explained, snickering as he gave a shrug of bafflement. “Guess he doesn’t know what a party is. Kinda fucked up, but-” he interrupted himself with another laugh. Vergil growled in irritation, and reached out to give Dante a light bop on the head with his unarmored hand, which only seemed to make Dante laugh even harder.

“O-Oh… I see,” Lady replied, struggling not to laugh herself. She took a deep breath, and turned towards Vergil. “So a slumber party, aka a sleepover, is a thing that people do sometimes like, for fun with their friends. Everyone spends the night at one person’s house, and you stay up late and do fun things, like eat junk food, watch movies, play games, give each other makeovers, things like that,” she explained. (She didn’t bother mentioning that certain activities were more common among girls; Poor Vergil was probably confused enough without having to try to figure out bullshit human gender roles anyway.)

Vergil went quiet for a moment, glancing between Lady and Dante with eyes narrowed in suspicion. Finally, he sighed, and nodded, reaching for the pen and paper again.

_ I see. It seems this “friends” concept is more complex than I had initially assumed. I can’t claim to understand the appeal of this ritual, but I am glad it brings you entertainment. _

Lady raised an eyebrow, and glanced towards Dante. “What’d he say?”

“Uh… He doesn’t really understand friendship, basically,” Dante answered. “I tried to explain it earlier, but… He doesn’t really get it.”

“Well then we’ll just have to show him,” Lady declared, holding up a bag and pulling out a videotape from it. “Movies first? I’ve got the whole set of ‘The Werewolf Stalkers’ series!”

“Fuck yeah! Even the one that was only in theaters for like three days before getting pulled?”

“Obviously! What do you take me for, a casual viewer?”

Dante pumped his fist in excitement, cheering, “And that’s why you’re my best friend! Let’s start this party!”

He hopped off the couch to help her set things up, dusting off the VCR and turning on the TV before heading into the kitchen to grab big bowls for snacks and cups for drinks. She joined him there and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave, pouring it into the biggest bowl when it was ready and carrying it back into the main room while he grabbed the cups and other bowls and placed them on the coffee table.

As Dante returned to the living room, Vergil gently tapped him on the shoulder, holding out another note. Dante read it carefully as he popped open a can of soda.

_ Dante, I apologize for the interruption, but I wish to begin studying the human script. I believe it would be best to learn it as quickly as possible, so I may communicate with Lady in a more direct and efficient manner. How would you suggest I go about this? _

“Oh! That’s a good idea,” Dante agreed with a nod. “Here, give me the pen, I’ve got an idea.”

Vergil complied, and watched curiously over Dante’s shoulder as Dante took a clean sheet of paper and began making a simple chart. He wrote out each letter of the English alphabet, and next to them, demonic approximations of the sounds they stood for.

“So humans actually have multiple different scripts, depending on the language, but this is the one we use for English- That’s the language we’re speaking right now,” Dante explained to Vergil. “It’s all phonetic, so each letter represents a different sound. Or… multiple sounds. I dunno, it’s kind of a mess,” he admitted, frowning at the chart. “But you’re a fast learner, so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. If you need any help, just let me know.”

Vergil seemed similarly confused, reading the chart over and frowning with a look of distaste, but nonetheless he nodded as he took the pen back.  _ Thank you, I appreciate this. I will do my best to learn. _

“You’re welcome, bro,” Dante replied, smiling warmly. It would certainly be easier for Vergil to be able to speak directly to Lady in case he wasn’t around to translate. 

He and Lady finished spreading out the snacks on the coffee table, and Lady grabbed the first movie in the series, pushing it into the VCR, turning on the TV, and pressing play. She sat back on the couch and they settled in to start watching.

As the previews played, Vergil wrote up a note and passed it to Dante.  _ What exactly is going on with that device? _

“Oh, right, you don’t remember movies yet. Well, you know how before we were actin’ out Shakespeare for you? Well now we’re about to watch some other people act out a scary story on the little screen there. Though, this is gonna be more funny than scary, but that’s what makes it so perfect for a slumber party!”

_ I see.  _ Vergil raised an eyebrow but returned to studying the sheet Dante had written out, only glancing up at the TV screen when the louder sound effects or dialogue clips played during the previews.

The movie proper eventually started and Dante grabbed a big handful of popcorn from the bowl as the main theme track played over the title. This was gonna be good, and the moment was made even better with his two favorite people right next to him.

As the movie progressed, just as gloriously cheesy as it had always been, Dante heard occasional grunts and growls of irritation from Vergil. At first, he assumed Vergil was simply responding to the sheer stupidity of the characters in the movie (Seriously, Kevin,  _ why  _ would you go into the basement? That was just asking to get eaten), but as Vergil’s irritation increased in intensity, Dante glanced over to find his attention quite solidly focused on the sheet of paper in front of him. Curious, Dante leaned over Vergil’s shoulder to see what he was writing.

“How’s it going, bro?” he wondered, staring down at Vergil’s messy, uncertain English handwriting. The paper read:

_ ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ _

_ HELO HELOW HALO HULOW HALOW HELO _

_ THIS LENGWIJ IZ STUPED END NANCENSIKUL _

Dante gave Vergil a sympathetic look, and then frowned as he realized, “Oh… I wrote the whole thing in all caps, huh?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow, and wrote back in his usual demonic.  _ What does that mean? _

“Uh, so basically, English has two different versions of each letter,” Dante explained. “There’s uppercase, or capitals, which is what I wrote here. Then there’s lowercase, which is smaller, and used more frequently. I forgot about those.”

Vergil stared at Dante, and then back down at the paper. For a moment, he went very, very still and quiet.

Dante watched as Vergil took a deep, shaky breath, set the paper and pen aside, and slowly stood up, reaching for an empty soda can; Vergil crushed the can between his hands until it had been compressed into roughly the size of a marble, and with a growl, he threw it across the room hard enough to lodge it firmly within the wall. Both Dante and Lady jumped in surprise.

“Having fun with your lessons, huh?” Lady commented sarcastically.

Vergil took another deep breath, seeming as if he was trying very hard not to scream, before finally sitting back down again. He idly grabbed a handful of popcorn and crossed his arms as he very pointedly ignored the paper.

Dante gave Vergil a sympathetic pat on the back. “How ‘bout you take a break and watch the movie with us?”

Vergil grumbled some more but did start paying more attention to the events on the screen. After about ten minutes and two more character deaths (Yeah Marsha, just run into the dark creepy woods, great idea!), he picked up his pen and paper once more and asked  _ Why are all of these people so woefully unprepared for battle? If they’re aware that there’s a demon killing them why don’t they fight back? _

“Honestly? Because the characters in these types of movies tend to be stupid, man. Half the fun is seeing which ones will be smart enough to survive and beat the monster.” 

Vergil gave him a surprised look.  _ I did not expect you or other humans to be into any kind of bloodsport. _

Dante shrugged. “It’s not really bloodsport if it isn’t real. These are all just actors, like in a play. Do you really think the guy in the shitty makeup and rubber suit is a real werewolf?”

Vergil looked up at the screen, where the monster was ripping the main jock apart in the third worst special effects scene Dante had ever seen.  _ I suppose not. _

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Besides, there are technically real life bloodsports anyway, though those are way less fun if you can’t heal fast.”

Vergil grinned, his fangs showing.  _ I want to watch that. _

“Of course you do.”

The marathon continued, with the movies getting sillier and more obviously cheaply made with each sequel and more and more junkfood being consumed. Vergil had taken a liking to the chocolate ice cream and only shared some of his pint with Dante after Dante agreed to trade some of his strawberry chunks from his pint of strawberry-vanilla swirl. 

Eventually, as the hour got later and the credits of the final film in the series played, Lady got up and stretched, looking down at Dante with a big smile. “I can absolutely see why that last one was pulled from theaters. What a trainwreck!”

Dante returned her smile, putting down his third empty can of soda. “Oh yeah. It was amazing! I can’t believe any of the original cast came back for that, especially if the rumors of the set being cursed were true.”

“Right?! Though now that I think about it, that could have been the case…” Lady tapped her chin thoughtfully before shrugging her shoulders. “Well anyway, what next?”

Dante glanced over at Vergil, who was staring at the TV screen with a mix of incredulity, disgust, and confusion. “Hey Vergil, what do you wanna do now?”

Vergil shook his head rapidly as if to shake the images of swimsuit-clad college kids running from a shark-werewolf from his mind, and wrote  _ Something to make me forget that torrent of absurdity you made me sit though. Anything. _

“Vergil wants brain bleach, apparently. How about we all take a moment to get up and move around and toss the trash before finishing off with Die Hard?” Dante grinned up at his twin. “Die Hard is an action masterpiece, dude. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that one unironically!”

Unfortunately, Dante had momentarily forgotten Vergil’s disdain for guns, and while Vergil’s unarmored hand was busy being painted sparkly blue by Lady as they watched, his other was busy writing complaints about how all of the characters were insufferable cowards for not engaging in proper combat. Oh well, next time they’d watch Highlander or something.

Dante watched as Lady painted Vergil’s nails. By the look on his face, Vergil seemed uncertain about the concept; He’d been curious about Dante’s own bright red nail polish as Lady had applied it, and after they’d explained what it was, he agreed to try it- But evidently, he hadn’t realized quite how long it would take, and seemed to be getting bored.

_ This is rather tedious. Is there no way to quicken the drying process?  _ he wrote, his handwriting a bit sloppy as the page tried to run away from him, unable to hold it down thanks to his wet nails.

Dante shook his head. “Nope. And I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, just let it be. I tried drying my nails with fire once and the smell was awful, stuck around for like, a week…” He winced at the memory. God, that had been a terrible idea…

Vergil sighed, glancing down with disdain. Just as he did so, Lady put the cap back on the bottle.

“Alright, top coat’s done,” she told him. “Be careful while it’s drying, if you squish it by accident there’s gonna be a mark like, until the nail polish comes off.”

As Vergil stared down at his newly painted nails, Dante smiled widely, giving him a thumbs-up. “Alright! Looks good, bro! Pretty cool, huh?” he told Vergil, and then turned towards Lady. “‘Kay, your turn. What colors do you want?”

While Lady dug through her extensive nail polish collection, Vergil once again stared at his nails, his expression shifting from irritated to curious. He wiggled his fingers, watching the way the light reflected off the nail polish’s surface, shimmering bright shades of blue. After a moment, he gave a satisfied nod, and returned to studying the chart Dante had made for him.

“Y’know, I still think the limo driver is the best character in this movie,” Lady commented idly, her eyes glued to the screen as she spread her hands out on the coffee table.

Dante nodded, uncapping the clear nail polish. “Oh, yeah. For sure.”

The room remained quiet as Dante painted Lady’s nails, save for the TV, as the movie grew closer and closer to the end. After a few minutes, Lady suddenly jumped in surprise, and Dante glanced up, frowning and wondering what the hell had surprised her enough to make him fuck up her nails. He found Vergil, holding out a piece of paper and staring down at Lady with his usual stern expression; Dante leaned over Lady’s shoulder to read Vergil’s note.

_ THIS IZ RUSPEKTABUL ARTIZINSHIP _

Lady raised an eyebrow. “That your way of saying thank you?”

Vergil scoffed, and turned away, feigning disinterest. Lady fought back a laugh, and Dante smiled. He was glad to see the two of them finally getting along.

As Dante dipped the brush back into the purple nail polish, he felt… Strangely at peace. Despite how devastatingly horrible most of the day had been, despite how exhausted he felt and how terrible a lot of things still were, for the moment things seemed to actually be going  _ right  _ for a change. Never even in his wildest, most self-indulgent dreams would he have thought that one day he’d be able to spend time with both Vergil and Lady, just hanging out, watching movies, nobody trying to kill each other… He could hardly believe it was all happening, and yet it was. Just the three of them, relaxing and having fun together, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

This.  _ This  _ was the jackpot. Everything Dante had ever wanted, and god, did he hope it would last forever.

* * *

Eventually, the bizarre festivities came to an end when both Dante and Lady kept yawning more than talking. The movie full of guns ended after what felt like an eternity of loud exploding annoyance to Nelo Angelo, and he helped them clean up the main room of waste and food that had fallen onto the floor. Lady unwrapped a long piece of shimmery fabric and laid it out on the other side of the small table in front of the couch, saying, “Alright, I brought a sleeping bag for me, so you two can share the couch or something.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Dante replied, shrugging. “I’ll go grab some extra blankets and pillows.”

As Dante ran off to retrieve them, Vergil turned to Lady and wrote  _ ILL TAKE FURST WACH _

“First watch? What do you mean?” Lady inquired, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “We’re just going to sleep. It’s not like we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

_ THERE IZ A POWERFUL DEMON IN THE AREEUH END I DO NOT WISH TO BE TAKEN BY SURPRIZE _

“You mean Trish, right? I don’t think she’ll be much of a problem for the three of us if she does show up, but you’ll be no good to fight if you don’t sleep.”

Nelo Angelo glared at her, disliking her insulting assessment of his abilities.  _ I AM FINE _

Lady sighed and rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Did I miss something?” Dante had returned with the blankets. “Everything alright, guys?”

“Vergil’s worried about Trish showing up while we’re sleeping.” Lady summarized. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. He’s like the biggest, baddest demon in the city, no one with any brains is going to want to break in here.”

“Hey!” Dante looked hurt. Was he upset that Lady didn’t consider him to be the strongest? How amusing.

“Oh don’t be like that Dante, he’s literally physically larger than you. Plus he has that creepy glowy eye thing. Between your reputation and his… Big Scary Demon-ness, and my Kalina Ann, no demon stands a chance against us.”

Nelo Angelo frowned. Confidence in oneself was commendable, but underestimating the enemy was foolish. He looked to Dante for reinforcements, and his brother smiled at him reassuringly. 

“It’s alright, Vergil. Even if Trish does show up, I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt you.”

Nelo Angelo sighed.  _ I DO NOT WISH FOR HER TO HARM YOU EITHUR WHICH IS WHY I WILL BE TAKING FURST WACH _

“First watch? Alrighty, if it makes you feel better, bro. Just wake me up in a few hours so I can do my turn, ok?”

Nelo Angelo nodded, and Dante grinned at him. “Okay! Bedtime!”

After turning off the remaining lights, Lady climbed into her sleeping bag, and Nelo Angelo sat back on the couch, Dante spreading a blanket over him before putting a pillow in Nelo Angelo’s lap, lying his head on it, and covering himself with another blanket.

“Good night, Vergil. Good night Lady,” Dante said as he settled in.

“Good night Dante, good night Vergil,” replied Lady, yawning once more.

Nelo Angelo grunted in acknowledgement, and soon the breathing of the other two in the room slowed as they fell asleep and left him alone with his thoughts. He stared down at Dante, whose face looked soft and peaceful. Was it his presence that allowed Dante to feel safe enough to smile in his slumber? Nelo Angelo hoped so. 

Despite his lack of understanding or experience with the “party” they had had that evening, it had actually been rather nice. What humans did for entertainment was wildly different from what demons did, but it wasn’t bad. He would prefer to watch something more to his own tastes on the television next time, though. He’d spent much of the party blatantly ignoring the movies, instead focusing on studying the alphabet chart Dante had left him.

For as infuriatingly nonsensical as the human script was, it still somehow felt… Familiar, almost natural. Nelo Angelo had picked it up rather quickly, just as Dante had said he would. He couldn’t help feeling a slight swell of pride when Dante had praised him for his spelling improving with such speed. Granted, it was still a bizarre, poorly-thought-out, almost masochistically idiotic writing system, but it was nonetheless one Nelo Angelo seemed to have a history with. Frankly, he was surprised this reclamation hadn’t caused the armor’s punishment spell to activate once more; Perhaps the damage was weakening it more than he had expected.

Speaking of the armor… Nelo Angelo’s gaze once again drifted to his now exposed forearm. The strange, stylized smiling face on the bandage Dante had put over the corruption boil almost seemed to mock him, though a part of him found it oddly endearing. Had lancing the boil actually done any good, he wondered? If nothing else, at least it didn’t appear to be swelling up again, yet his arm remained the same pale, withered grey it had been before. The only visible difference (save for the aforementioned pink bandage) was the glittery blue lacquer Lady had covered his nails with. He had to admit, he rather liked the nail polish, and it had been… Comforting, in a way, to follow the same strange rituals as Dante, even if he didn’t understand any of it. There had been something nice about the way Dante had taken Nelo Angelo’s hand in his own and, despite the clear difference between warm, lively tan skin and dry, sickly grey, he had proclaimed, “Look, we match!”

Nelo Angelo sighed as he glanced down at Dante’s sleeping form. Perhaps someday there would be more resemblance in their appearances than simply nail polish. That, though, was an uncertain possibility, one that hinged on the unlikely chance that he could truly escape from Mundus’ iron grip. He clenched a fist at the thought of his master, and tore his gaze away from Dante, turning his attention back towards the door instead. He needed to keep watch, not daydream about an unlikely future.

The hours passed slowly, but Nelo Angelo remained awake. He didn’t sense Trish nearby, but she could return at any moment and he needed to be vigilant. It was beginning to take effort to fight the urge to rest, but interrupting Dante’s sound sleep to have him take watch was not an option. His twin needed it.

“Hey!” A whisper hissed at him from the floor. Nelo Angelo looked down to see Lady staring up at him from her sleeping bag. Why was she awake? Did she sense something he didn’t?

“I know you’re worried, but you really need to sleep, Vergil. Dante will be worried if you don’t.” She seemed very sincere. He didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps she was right. He was becoming less and less alert by the hour, and surely Trish would have appeared by now…

Nelo Angelo reluctantly nodded, and Lady smiled at him before lying back down. “Goodnight again, Vergil.”

Nelo Angelo grunted quietly, then draped an arm over Dante and closed his eyes. His brother murmured something in his sleep and automatically reached for his hand with his own, and Nelo Angelo took it, gently squeezing.

There was a warm feeling in his chest.


	8. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> please give big gratitude to Alex bc without her this fic would not be written like at all
> 
> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> Vergil, slapping some monopoly money down on the counter: GIVE ME YOUR STRONGEST PIZZA, PIZZA MAN

The days following the “slumber party” brought change for Nelo Angelo, as well as for Dante. As promised, Lady stayed over for several more days, albeit with fewer festivities involved. This was not entirely as unpleasant as Nelo Angelo had expected it to be; Now that she no longer viewed him as a threat, Lady seemed, thankfully, less inclined to antagonize him at every possible moment, and her attempts to encourage Dante were something Nelo Angelo quietly appreciated. It was easier to get along, too, now that Nelo Angelo could read and write the human script- For the most part, anyway, even if he still struggled occasionally with spelling, though he improved with each book he eagerly fought through.

(Unfortunately, the armor- As usual- Couldn’t help but attempt to crush any sliver of happiness Nelo Angelo ever experienced, and had activated the punishment spell several times in response to various books. Nonetheless, he continued his pursuits; The more time went on, it seemed, the more determined he became to live his own life without Mundus’ interference.)

The house, too, changed as time went one. Nelo Angelo assisted Lady in cleaning up- _Why_ Dante felt so inclined to hoard empty pizza boxes, he would never understand- And Dante had made an… Attempt to fill the cracks in the hole in the wall with some odd sort of glue, to keep the rain and wind out. It was a decidedly bad attempt, one that provoked some sort of visceral feeling of frustration and disdain every time Nelo Angelo looked at it, but if nothing else it did manage to be… Functional. Somewhat. Dante had attempted to hide its ugliness by moving the jukebox to cover the hole, but it still irritated Nelo Angelo.

And so, life went on. Dante and Lady slowly reintroduced Nelo Angelo to human culture- Games, music, movies, TV shows, even food. After trying a dish called “chicken nuggets”, Nelo Angelo found himself wondering if the demon Griffon would taste good with ketchup. As one of the most irritating of Mundus’ generals, Nelo Angelo had long harbored a secret desire to simply kill him already… But that was merely wishful thinking.

More often than not, the small group’s activities together ended in friendly arguments- Albeit rather violent ones; Nelo Angelo had wound up _very_ apologetically holding Dante’s hand onto his arm while it healed after he had cut it off during a particularly heated game of Uno, and he still bore a grudge against Lady for shooting a hole through his hand during the same game. How did ordinary humans play Uno, he wondered? Was such an aggressive game truly a human creation? He’d have to ask Dante about it sometime.

Speaking of Dante… His behavior as of late was rather disconcerting to Nelo Angelo. Even though Nelo Angelo had asserted several times that he did not hate Dante, nor have any plans to betray him, he found himself wondering if the events of that tumultuous day had helped or harmed Dante. Dante’s moods seemed perplexingly inconsistent; At times he was cheerful, casual, and optimistic, happily chatting away about whatever interested him at the time. Other times, he seemed overwhelmed with anxiety and despair, and often wound up crying, begging Nelo Angelo not to leave and apologizing seemingly just for his own existence. Other times still, Dante would become unexpectedly angry, lashing out and accusing Nelo Angelo of lying to him about his feelings- Though he always realized rather quickly that these accusations were unfair, and apologized quite profusely. At times he would avoid touching Nelo Angelo, a haunted look in his eyes, as if Nelo Angelo were a delicate thing he could break by mere touch, and the rest of the time he’d cling to him with a vice grip, as if afraid to let him go.

Nelo Angelo did not hold any of this behavior against Dante, but it did leave him confused and deeply concerned. As Dante slept on the couch one particularly emotional afternoon, Nelo Angelo decided to consult Lady about the issue, writing her a note in his usual slow and awkward English.

_I thouhgt iT unwise to bring this up to dante, but i have notised he biHaves strangly Lately. iT seems at times he trusts me, aNd other times he Does not. What cases him To be so seveRly emoshional twords me?_

Lady frowned in confusion as she read Nelo Angelo’s note. “I thought Dante said he already talked to you about it? He has PTSD.”

Nelo Angelo paused, frowning as he tried to understand this answer; After a moment, he sighed, and wrote his response. _I do Not understand what You mean by these leteRs. I do reccal Dante saYing he surfers from an aLemint of the mind, thouh he did noT explane fuly. Is that What your refering too? What caN be done to aliveat his simpToms?_

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. PTSD means Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Basically…” Lady took a breath and crossed her arms, apparently trying to come up with the best explanation for him. “It means because he’s been through so much that hurt him, both mentally and physically, it… haunts him? Like… in a way he’s constantly reliving all the horrible things he’s experienced, and that causes him to have trouble in his day to day life. That means some days are really bad, like how you described. I’ve known Dante a long time now, and ever since the Temen-ni-gru, he’s struggled with both the memories of his childhood and then losing you for the second time. 

As for treatment, there are people out there whose job it is to help people with PTSD, but I’ve never managed to convince Dante to go to one. I think he’s afraid? Of being called crazy if he tells anyone about his life and that he’s half demon, or maybe or having to work through everything he’s gone through, or maybe both. It’s…” She paused, her eyes unfocusing as she looked away. “It’s not as easy as some people think.”

Nelo Angelo frowned, his gaze drifting towards Dante’s sleeping form. So Dante had been intentionally refusing to seek a solution to his affliction? That was… Concerning, to say the least. Unsettling. Dante had made it sound as if there simply wasn’t anything that could be done about it; Had he been lying, trying to hide his own self-sabotaging behavior? Nelo Angelo narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

_I understaNd why dante would be ralucTant to disgust This mateR with humans. However, It is still disterbinG to think that he Would avoyd seaking a solushun to his Aflicshon, if one is avaiLible. How afective Is this tretMint?_

Lady tilted her head as she thought about it. “Hmm… I think it would depend on the person, probably. A lot of people go through multiple different therapists trying to find one that works well with them, so… There is that,” she admitted.

Nelo Angelo gave a low hum, once again looking towards Dante. At first glance, his brother looked so peaceful, sleeping there on the couch- Yet closer inspection revealed an undeniable tension in his body and his expression, his cheeks still streaked with tears from his most recent… What was it Dante and Lady had called his emotional outbursts? Panic attacks?

Nelo Angelo sighed, and ran a hand through Dante’s hair, bringing it down to gently caress his cheek. He let his gaze linger on Dante for several moments before picking up the pen again.

_He worys me. I know There are things he isNt teling me._ He paused. _I have tryed To rical them on my own, but the Armor will not leT me._

“What kind of things?”

Nelo Angelo found himself still staring at Dante as he replied. _He Has not told me the full deTales of our last eNcaonter. I get the sens There is somethiNg emportint he is Leving out._

Lady sighed, a look on her face somewhere between irritation and concern. “Yeah, I noticed he didn’t give you the full story,” she admitted quietly, glancing at Dante and shaking her head. “I think he’s afraid of how you might react if he told you the rest.”

Nelo Angelo frowned. _I have Told him maney times I do Not blame him foR whatever hapined iN our past._

“I know. I mean, you and I both know this sort of thing is hard for him, but…” She shook her head once again. “He really needs to learn to stop running from his problems… I don’t know, at this point maybe I should just tell you. You deserve to know the truth, and- Frankly, it concerns me too, so Dante’s not the only one with a stake in this.”

For a moment, Nelo Angelo’s eyes widened with interest- Then he paused. 

_As much as i wouLd like To know what hapiNed, I do not think it would be wise to Tell me without dantes censent._

“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Lady sighed. “But we should definitely bring it up once he’s awake, anyway.”

Nelo Angelo nodded, and said no more. He glanced at Dante once again; With one last respectful nod towards Lady, he sat down quietly on the floor next to the couch, reached for Dante’s hand, and settled in to wait patiently for his brother to awaken.

* * *

Dante woke slowly from a blessedly dreamless sleep, though it had still been troubled by the lingering effects of his earlier panic attack. He considered just lying there and letting unconsciousness take him once again, but he could feel Vergil and Lady’s gazes on him. Did they want something?

He opened his eyes and groaned internally as he saw the concern on their faces. Yeah he was having a rough day, but making people worry about him made him feel like an asshole. “Hi, guys.”

“Hi. How are you feeling?” Lady asked in the quiet voice she always used when he was real fucked up.

“I’m fine now,” he replied, sitting up and gently squeezing Vergil’s hand. His twin had quickly picked up the habit of holding Dante’s hand even when he wasn’t feeling bad. Dante liked that. “Nothing a nap couldn’t fix.”

Both Vergil and Lady’s faces showed clear doubt, and Lady shook her head, sighing with the exasperation of exasperation. “You know you can just tell us if you need anything. I’ve told you a million times, Dante, you don’t need to pretend that nothing’s wrong.”

“Yeah, well maybe sometimes I want to pretend, ok? Just… I don’t want to think about my many, many issues right now. I want to get my mind off of them.” He glanced towards the door. “I think I’m gonna go for a ride to clear my head.”

Vergil hastily wrote _ARe you sur? BeiNg alon Mihgt not be the besT idea Today. What If you are cot oF gaRd by someThign?_

Dante shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Not much can really hurt me, you know that.”

“He’s right,” Lady interjected. “I don-”

“Yeah, well, I’m going! Don’t wait up.” He really couldn’t deal with this right now. He avoided Vergil’s grab for his arm and made for the closet, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on before heading out the door before anyone else could make a move to stop him.

Dante hopped on his motorcycle, revving it and speeding off. The sound of the engine and the rain against his face felt good. Helped drown out his fresh sobs and hide the tears that had resumed running down his face. God, he was so fucking pathetic. Stupid, cowardly, selfish piece of shit. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just pull it together? 

Nothing good could come of Vergil remembering everything about what had happened between them, their fighting, the fall. But to have him stay in this mid-way point, still all fucked up and mostly trapped in the armor… That wouldn’t be fair to him. He deserved to return to normal, to be free of Mundus. And if he decided that Dante wasn’t worth staying around again… Well. It’s not like he hadn’t had to cope with that before. Who was he to hold his twin back from living his life how he wanted? Meddling with Vergil’s plans before had only led to him throwing himself into hell to get away from Dante.

All he wanted was to have his last living family member close to him, for them to be happy together. Was that really so goddamn much to ask?! ...Maybe it was.

He sped up, weaving between cars to get to the highway. The further he could get away from everything, the better.

* * *

The hollowness in Nelo Angelo’s heart ached as he felt Dante’s presence move farther and farther away. Why had his twin left? Was he truly feeling so awful that running away from his stressors seemed a better idea than anything else?

Better than confiding and taking comfort in his brother? 

Nelo Angelo stood up automatically, striding toward the door. He had to follow Dante and bring him home. As much as Dante did not wish to actually face his problems, they would need to be handled eventually if he, and they, wanted to move forward in life.

“Hey hey hey!” Lady’s voice interrupted his thoughts and her hands pushing on his chestplate paused his march. “You still can’t go out there! You’re like 8 feet tall and terrifying!”

He growled in frustration. Just what was he supposed to do then?! He glared down at Lady, demanding an answer, and she seemed to understand him.

“Look, sometimes this is what Dante does on a bad day. He goes for a ride for a couple of hours then comes back and drinks whatever he can get his hands on. Now that you’re here I can have an easier time preventing that second part, but in the meantime we’re going to have to wait for him to come back.”

Nelo Angelo scowled. Inaction felt wrong. Lady was correct that him going out would likely lead to mass panic of the humans… but did that really matter as much as finding Dante? Though, it would certainly only cause Dante more distress if he found out that Vergil had left home…

The sigh he left out was partially another growl. What an extremely vexing situation. His chest still ached, and he pressed a hand to it as he glanced in the direction of the closet Dante had neglected to close when he left. Truly his brother had been feeling off, because he had kept this closet firmly closed practically the whole time Nelo Angelo had been staying here, occasionally eyeing it nervously. Nelo Angelo hadn’t thought much of it at the time, presuming that he had been hiding some kind of mess that would fall out if the door was opened given Dante’s lack of cleaning habits, but it appeared to contain mostly red coats, with a few black leather jackets and boxes on the floor. 

Needing something, anything to do with his restless energy, Nelo Angelo approached the closet and grabbed the door to close it. But… then he felt something. A kind of demonic energy coming from the back of the closet. But why would there be anything with that kind of aura in a coat closet? And why did it feel so familiar?

He pushed several of the jackets aside and nudged some boxes with a sabatoned foot. There. The thing radiating the familiar aura was long and wrapped in cloth, and somewhat sword-shaped. Nelo Angelo pulled it out from the closet, holding it in one hand and unwrapping it with the other. It was indeed a sword, a gorgeous broadsword with a skull decoration for the pommel and a cross-guard that appeared to be in the shape of… a particular demon’s horns?

He knew this blade. But from where? He held it properly, with both hands, pointed out in front of him. The twisted grip felt natural, like he was meant to hold it. Like it belonged to… belonged to…

Pain lanced through him and he let go of the sword to clutch his head. Why was the spell activating? Was this another connection to his past? If he was going to go through this again, let him at least learn something helpful!

He heard Lady call his name as his vision went black.

* * *

_The Force Edge fell through the portal, embedding itself into the stone of the waterfall as he and Dante fell after it. They both eyed it as they landed with loud splashes, but Vergil was quicker, rolling forward from his crouch to grab the hilt and pull it away before Dante could reach it. Dante backed off, obviously frustrated, but now was not the time to taunt him for his slow reflexes. His twin’s amulet was wrapped around his wrist and hand._

_Vergil held the hand not clutching Force Edge out to his brother in a demanding gesture. “Give that to me.”_

_Dante, petulant as ever, hid his amulet behind his back, retorting, “No way, you got your own.”_

_Fine. If he wanted to be childish, Vergil could play that game as well. He took Force Edge in both hands, holding it in a proper threatening stance. “Well I want yours too.”_

_“What are you gonna do with all that power, huh?” Dante asked flippantly. “No matter how hard you try, you’re never gonna be like Father.”_

_Stupid, foolish little brother. Did he truly understand nothing? For what other reason would Vergil need power other than to protect himself? To put an end to the threat that had killed their mother and separated them?_

_But then Dante had always been protected, hadn’t he? Shielded from the bulk of their mother’s disappointment, frustration, and pressures by being the younger brother, rescued from their burning home while Vergil was left behind. It was evident that he hadn’t been constantly on the run from demon attacks like Vergil had during adolescence, either. So how could he understand, spoiled brat that he was?_

_Vergil’s resentment boiled over into anger. “You’re wasting time!” With an enraged roar, he swung Force Edge at Dante, and the two ended up in a mirrored pose, each attempting to bring their broadsword down while holding off their twin’s weapon with their other hand. Blood from their cut-open palms flowed down the blades._

_“We are the Sons of Sparda!” Dante spoke, sounding the most serious he had in all the time that Vergil had known him. “Within each of us flows his blood. But more importantly, his soul!” The two of them pushed away from each other, skidding back several feet. Dante continued, “And now, my soul is saying it wants to stop you!”_

_How ridiculous. Vergil couldn’t help but laugh. Dante had no idea what he was talking about. “Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother. I need more power!”_

_“And we’re supposed to be twins.” Dante actually almost sounded like he was lamenting their impending final battle. How unlike him._

_“Twins… right.” Vergil brandished Force Edge, smiling ironically. The same face, the same power… But the power that had been split between them rightfully belonged to Vergil, and he was going to claim it._

_No more words were needed between them._

_Vergil could not count how many times he had fought his brother over the years. He relished each and one of their battles, even during the times when he’d felt his heart burn with resentment for Dante. There had always been a certain elegance to their fights, from the time they were children; They were equals, powerful warriors who shared the same legendary blood, the same fiery souls, two halves of a whole. Vergil knew, deep down, that no matter what kind of demons they fought, not even a god could ever be a better opponent for either of them than each other. Their fights were like dances of violence, a song shared between them that only they knew- Not conflicts, but collaborations, pure power and skill channeled from Hell to the Earth._

_But now… Now, things were different. Like their mother’s amulet, they had been split apart, the song’s graceful notes turned to dissonant chords of anger and rejection. This was not a game, not a mutual effort to sate their demonic cravings for violence; This was a pure fight for survival, and Vergil could feel it as he moved. Each blow was desperate, lethal, both fighters pushing to achieve their goal no matter what the cost._

_And Dante was winning._

_No. No! Vergil couldn’t lose to Dante. Not again. He needed to win, needed his father’s power. As another cluster of rapid thrusts of Dante’s sword beat against the center of Vergil’s chest, he gasped, the realization dawning at him that he had to do something or he was going to fail. And failure… Failure was not an option._

_Gritting his teeth, Vergil jumped back, out of the way of Dante’s attacks. He took a deep breath and reached within himself, deep to the depths of his soul, calling upon every last ounce of demonic blood- Sparda’s blood- that flowed through his veins. He drew upon the raw demonic energy of the Underworld as he pushed his devil form farther than ever before._

_He needed power._

_With renewed strength and speed, he unleashed a relentless attack upon Dante, slicing at him from every angle. He moved quickly, taking the pace of the fight down to the millisecond, knowing that Dante couldn’t block every attack- And for a moment, it worked. Vergil could smell Dante’s blood as he landed several hits, drawing involuntary grunts of pain from Dante’s throat. But the energy it took to maintain this level of strength was beginning to take its toll on Vergil, and after only a few seconds, he began to stumble, grasping desperately at the last of his demonic energy as he felt it inevitably slip away from him. No! Not now..!_

_With ice-cold dread, Vergil glanced up to find Dante’s body shifting as well. Eyes of flame leered down at Vergil as if to taunt him with the power he was losing, and as he desperately- Pointlessly- Made to dodge the incoming attack, Vergil couldn’t help but think how fitting it was that Dante’s devil form looked so different from his own._

_“Dante,” Vergil gasped as he collapsed onto his knees, no longer strong enough to stand up to Dante’s blows. He felt Dante’s demonic energy dissipate, and he knew that the fight was over._

_Everything was over._

_This couldn’t be happening. “Am I… being defeated?”_

_“What’s wrong?” Dante asked, sounding only mildly breathless. “Is that all you got? Come on, get up! You can do better than that.”_

_Vergil clenched his fist and growled in fury at his brother’s taunting, but as he stood up, the ground shook beneath them. “The portal to the Human World is closing, Dante… because the amulets have been separated.”_

_Dante didn’t seem surprised or phased by his declaration. “Let’s finish this Vergil. I have to stop you, even if it means killing you.” There is determination on his face, but no pleasure. Dante is not happy to say those words. Fool. Once Vergil had finally cut him down to size, perhaps he would understand that this was for his benefit as well._

_They rushed towards each other one final time, their boots splashing through the rushing water, time feeling like it had slowed down as identical eyes glared at each other. And as they clashed-- Vergil felt Rebellion slice all the way through his gut, his advanced healing the only thing keeping him from being permanently bisected. However, it did not prevent pain, and he wavered before stumbling forward, half-throwing Force Edge behind him and dropping his own amulet in the water. He coughed and gasped in agony as he picked it up, clutching it close to his chest as he backed up towards the edge of the waterfall, the edge that led downward into the Underworld._

_“No one can have this, Dante. It’s mine. It belongs to a Son of Sparda!” Vergil continued to hobble backwards, but Dante realized what he was doing. He ran forward in an attempt to stop him, but Vergil drew Yamato and pointed it at his throat to stop him in his tracks. “Leave me and go, if you don’t want to be trapped in the Demon World. I’m staying. This place was our father’s home.”_

_He tipped himself backwards over the edge, but as he did so, Dante reached out to grab his hand, perhaps to keep him falling. Another attempt to foil his plans, even though this one was meant to be benevolent towards Dante. Vergil sliced at his twin’s outstretched hand with Yamato, slicing the palm, and it was enough to stop Dante there, a devastated look on his face as Vergil dropped away from him._

_The Underworld would be no place for his little brother. Vergil could see that under his irreverence and bravado and crassness was a soft, weak, human soul. Too human for hell. As capable as he was, he’d be ripped to shreds by anything that got their claws on him, physically and spiritually._

_No, Dante joining Vergil was not an option._

_As the elder brother, it was his duty to avenge their family and defeat Mundus once and for all. Dante now had Force Edge, but there would surely be more sources of power for Vergil to find and acquire in the Underworld. He would gain strength, then bring it to bear against the demon emperor. And then... nothing would be able to harm him again._

_And so he fell, alone._

* * *

Nelo Angelo only knew pain. It enveloped him completely, filling every last cell in his body- His arms, his legs, his head, his chest, his soul, the last miniscule fragments of his heart that clung to the edges of the hole in his chest.

And _oh, the hole._ Its pain was strong enough to nearly drown out the already-strong pain that normally came with the punishment spell, howling and screaming such that his vision went white and nausea bubbled up in his stomach, his corrupted lungs struggling to breathe beneath the pressure of the hole. He could hear a distant voice calling his name, but his ears were ringing with pain, and he could not gather his thoughts enough to recognize who it was. All he could comprehend was the immense agony he felt, and the memory of Dante’s wide-eyed expression seared into his mind.

Dante… he had fought with Dante on the precipice above the entrance to Underworld. And he had lost. In his moment of defeat, his past self had decided that the Demon World was where he truly belonged, and had thrown himself down. Surely what followed was his fateful meeting with Mundus, and the beginning of his service to the demon emperor. 

His current fate was of his own doing. The hollowness in his chest stung as deeply as the humiliation of that knowledge. His pride had caused him to make a beyond foolish, reckless choice, and now he was paying for it a thousandfold.

But then why was Dante so filled with guilt? From how his twin acted around him on his bad days, Nelo Angelo would have thought that Dante had pushed him off the cliff instead of trying to keep him from falling. The look on his face had been so pained, so shocked. So human.

His past self had been correct about one thing: Dante did not belong in the Underworld. His mind, unbidden, showed him images of what could have been. Dante falling alongside him, the two of them being found and defeated by Mundus, then captured and taken away to be broken and bent to his will. Mundus would have probably enjoyed using any affection they had toward each other against them, forcing one to watch as the other was ripped apart and painfully put back together again, only for the monster who had destroyed their family in the first place to repeat the process over and over.

Nelo Angelo felt ill. No, it was better that he had kept Dante from grabbing for him, preventing the chance of his ( _precious, beloved_ ) little brother experiencing the many torments he had at Mundus’ hands.

The pain from the punishment spell finally began to lessen, and the distant voice became recognizable. He cracked open his tired eyes to see Lady’s concerned face above him.

“Vergil! Are you awake?!”

He groaned in response, and she sat back on her hands, sighing in relief. “You have to stop fucking doing that. What am I gonna tell Dante if he comes back and you’re out on the floor looking dead?”

Nelo Angelo wanted to give a sarcastic response, but his head hurt too much to supply him with one. Instead, he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, pressing his unarmored hand to his forehead. 

“Need some help getting to the couch?” Lady asked. He nodded, allowing her to pull an arm over his shoulder and get him up off of the floor. They staggered over to the couch and she let him fall onto it with a strained grunt. “You are way too damn heavy.”

He ignored her, leaning back against the couch and resting his head on the cool cushions. It would be nice if the spell would weaken enough to stop giving him splitting headaches. 

“Do you need some water or something? I’m not giving you my blood.” 

Her voice was not helping. He grunted at her, hoping to convey his annoyance, but she seemed determined to ignore him right back, walking into the kitchen and pouring him a glass of water and shoving it at him. “Drink this. I know it doesn’t do much for you but it’s better than nothing, right?”

Sighing in resignation, he took the glass and drank. The water was cold and bland, and not at all what he needed to regain strength. But it was indeed better than nothing, and after a few minutes he passed the glass back to her, nodding in gratitude. She seemed to understand and nodded back, giving him a small half-smile before letting it drop and looking towards the door. 

Nelo Angelo groaned as he leaned back against the couch once more. Another wave of agony pulsed from within the hole in his chest, and he let out an involuntary shout of pain, pressing his hand against his chest uselessly.

“Oh, shit! Are you ok?! What’s wrong?!” Lady gasped, her loud exclamation doing nothing good for his still-present headache.

Nelo Angelo could not respond, only grit his teeth and draw in a hissing breath. He remained there silently for what felt like forever, curled up in agony, until the pain gradually subsided; After several deep breaths, he reached for the pen and paper on the coffee table, writing out a note with shaking, sweaty hands.

_I must speak wiTh dante abot What i have seen._

“What you’ve seen?” Lady repeated, frowning slightly. “What did you see?”

Nelo Angelo sighed and dragged a hand down his face, exhausted just from thinking about it. He kept his responses brief, too weak and unfocused for lengthy sentences.

_We fot. I fell. Dante tried to save Me but i Did noT let him._

“Oh. That.” Lady sighed. “Yeah, that’s… More or less what I was trying to get Dante to talk to you about. I guess that makes some things easier, though I’m not sure Dante will be too happy about this.” She crossed her arms, sitting down in the desk chair with a huff and kicking her feet up. “God, I hope he gets back soon.”

Nelo Angelo hummed in agreement, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment’s rest.

He could only hope that when Dante returned, Nelo Angelo would be able to find the right words to ease the unnecessary guilt his beloved brother had placed upon himself.

For several minutes, there was blissful silence, allowing Nelo Angelo’s headache to gradually die down somewhat. Tentatively opening his eyes, he glanced towards the desk; Lady seemed to be reading one of Dante’s magazines (as he had learned the thin, colorful books were called), yet the forlorn expression on her face made it seem as if her thoughts lay elsewhere. Perhaps she, too, could not help feeling anxious about how Dante would react to hearing of their past conflict.

Lady glanced briefly up at Nelo Angelo, and then back down again as soon as she met his gaze, seemingly pretending not to have looked at all. Nelo Angelo frowned slightly. Was the magazine only an act? Why? What was Lady thinking?

“...You know,” Lady began after a moment, avoiding Nelo Angelo’s gaze and feigning disinterest, “A lot of people died in the Temen-ni-Gru incident.”

Nelo Angelo gave a hum of acknowledgement. Lady’s frown soured slightly, and she glanced up for real this time. “Well? Don’t you have anything to say?”

Frowning in confusion, Nelo Angelo gave a slight shrug. He didn’t understand. What was Lady trying to get at? What was he _supposed_ to say?

Whatever response Lady had been hoping for, this clearly was not it, as she gave a hum of frustration and jumped up from the desk chair. “God, this is the fucking _problem_ with you! You’re so- So- Selfish, and-” she broke off into an angry splutter as she paced the room, throwing her hands up in the air. “You killed dozens if not hundreds of people, and all you can do is fucking _shrug your shoulders_ like it’s nothing?! God, I really thought for a moment that maybe you weren’t a hopeless, irredeemable monster after all, but you just fucking love to prove me wrong, don’t you?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she spat. “I can’t believe you’re supposed to be Dante’s twin. You are _nothing_ like Dante, and you don’t deserve the patience he’s given you.”

Nelo Angelo drew back, stunned by Lady’s sudden, seemingly out of nowhere outburst- Or was it truly out of nowhere, he wondered? Had she been holding these feelings in the entire time, merely pretending to tolerate him- To be _friends,_ as Dante had taught him- While secretly harboring a deep resentment for him? Secretly believing him to be, as she had put it, irredeemable?

Suddenly, all of Nelo Angelo’s pain turned to burning anger. How _dare_ she? To keep her concerns quiet, and then all of a sudden lash out, condemning Nelo Angelo based on his reaction to one question… How was he to know how he was supposed to respond? How was he to know she had expected him to care about humans he’d never met? And now suddenly he was a “monster” for not meeting her approval? And to bring Dante into it like this..!

How dare she condemn him? _How dare she question his bond with Dante?_

Nelo Angelo snarled, reaching for the pen with an angry grasp. 

_My “probLem” is that i have Had my memaRies and my human Heart sTolin from me. I have spent caontles yeers forced To serv a demoN who views Humans as noThing more than Food. Any rabelius Thots were Met with fizzicaL torchuR as you saw. I am tryign harder Then you can know To unlern the Things that have been beaTin into me._

_I will not tell You how to feel aBout The past, or about me. But nyther wil I siT aidlee bye aNd let you viliniz me For not having The emoshonal Reacshons you deem “corect”._

He threw down the pen, and shoved the paper in Lady’s direction with an angry growl. She read it quickly, red and blue eyes scanning over the paper, and her eyebrows raised before diving low on her brow again.

“Vergil… You know what? I’m sorry, truly sorry, that this horrible shit has happened to you. But even back then, when you were still normal, I don’t remember you showing any signs of remorse at all the damage you caused, either collateral or property wise. So forgive me for thinking that experiencing all the suffering you have yourself would have taught you some compassion.”

Nelo Angelo fell silent.

It truly didn’t matter to her how hard he was trying, did it? No. As far as Lady was concerned, it was Nelo Angelo who was in the wrong for not sharing her worldview. 

Funny how he’d seen that attitude before. Clenching his teeth, he picked up the pen once more. 

_I do noT know how I Felt back then, and I dont caRe. I did not Know what compashon was until RecenTely. I was toght that caRing for others was Shamefull anD week. I was puNished for ane siNe of such Feeligns. Do you really thiNk i’ts so simpul To forget that?_

_Ragardles, it seems You do not care. You expekt me To act and think a sertuN way, with no ragards as To why I may not. Is that not, in itselF, a lack of coMpashon? If you caNNot alao me To make Mistaks without being punisheD for them, then you aRe no Difrent from mundus._

With that, he put the pen down, and turned away from Lady. He was done trying to defend himself against her unfair criticisms. Let her stew in her hatred of him, if that was what she was so determined to do; He would have no part in it.

He should have known better than to expect a human to understand him. What a fool he’d been to trust her. What a fool he’d been, to think he’d have a chance at a life where he wouldn’t be condemned for every mistake, every thought that didn’t fit someone else’s idea of what he was supposed to think. Humans and demons, it seemed, were truly not so different from each other. 

The hole in Nelo Angelo’s chest ached as if to mock him, and he turned his gaze to the door, praying that the only person who had ever treated him with genuine kindness would return soon. 

* * *

Lady read what Vergil had written. And then she read it again. And then she gritted her teeth, hands shaking, ready to rip the paper apart in fury. How dare he compare her to the most evil demon of them all?! Could she really be blamed for not liking or trusting him, a demon, who even before being twisted the way he was, had never shown remorse for his destructive actions, even when those actions had irreversibly harmed his own brother?

But… knowing what she did now about how he had grown up, was it fair of her to hate him for developing a fucked up worldview when he knew nothing else? 

Vergil had turned away from her, apparently unwilling to say anything else. She looked down at the paper again, wanting to ball it up and throw it in his face, but instead she shoved it in her shorts pocket and climbed up the broken stairs to the second floor, then pulled out the ceiling ladder and went up to the roof. The rain had died down to a drizzle, but it didn’t really matter. She walked over to the little set of patio furniture she and Dante had set up ages ago and sat down at the table under the fading red umbrella. 

Lady pulled the paper out of her pocket, smoothing it out on the dry part of the table. Maybe she had gone a little too far. No way in hell was she about to excuse his actions, but… Growing up believing your entire family was dead, having no one to rely on, and having gained her father as some kind of mentor at some point? It wasn’t hard to see how Vergil could have ended up the cold, power-hungry young man she briefly met at the Temen-ni-Gru. 

And having his humanity stolen from him and his individual personality suppressed? God, what the fuck. That would only make it worse. To not know compassion because he was never shown any… He was probably right about her judging him too harshly. For him to have compared her to Mundus, she must have really overstepped a boundary.

She sighed, resting her head on one hand. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

In the end, Dante didn’t get very far before turning back. As he thought back on recent events, he realized that maaaaybe leaving suddenly despite Vergil’s objections had not been particularly considerate of him… And, despite how much Dante really didn’t want to be at home right now, the guilt had crept up on him enough that he’d wound up turning tail and heading home, cheeks burning with shame, after only about an hour or so of driving around.

“Hey, I’m back,” he muttered as he pushed the door open, gaze downturned. “Uh, listen, I’m sorry I-”

Dante paused, blinking as he glanced up and slowly took in the scene before him. 

The first thing he noticed was that Lady was nowhere to be found. 

The second thing he noticed was that the closet was open, and Force Edge lay haphazardly on the floor in front of it. 

The third thing he noticed was Vergil, curled up on the end of the couch, trembling and clinging to his sword like a lifeline with his eyes wide with fear. 

Dante took a deep breath, and whispered, “What the fuck happened?!”

Vergil jumped as he heard Dante enter, brandishing his sword with shaking hands. He lowered it as he realized it was only Dante- Yet he still seemed on edge, eyes darting from the door to the stairs as if watching for intruders. God, he looked terrified. What the fuck had happened? For fuck’s sake, Dante had only been gone an hour, and somehow everything had gone to hell and back. And where the fuck was Lady?!

Well, whatever. First things first. Worry about Vergil now, figure out where Lady was and why the hell Force Edge was on the floor later. 

“Vergil? Hey, it’s ok, it’s just me,” Dante told him, holding his hands up and approaching the couch slowly so as not to startle Vergil. “What’s wrong? Are you ok? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Vergil took a deep breath and bit his lip, looking conflicted as he reached for the pen. He wrote in slow, shaky demonic with one hand, his other hand still tightly gripping his sword. 

_I do not wish to be punished any longer. Everything I do is wrong and I will never be safe._

Dante felt his heart break as he read Vergil’s note. “Oh, Vergil…” He wrapped his arms around Vergil, pulling him into a close hug. “Listen to me. You _are_ safe here, ok? I promise. I- We’re gonna get that armor off you, and I swear to you, I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe now. I promise.”

Dante noted how exhausted Vergil looked as they gazed into each others’ eyes. He was usually only this tired after… Oh God.

“Vergil, did… did you see another memory while I was gone? Did Force Edge do it?” Vergil nodded in confirmation, and Dante’s breath hitched in fear. “What… What did you see? Can you tell me?” Better to ask now and get it over with, right? Better that than to drag it all out and make it even harder when Vergil finally declared his hatred for Dante if he had seen what Dante was afraid he had seen.

Vergil took a shaky breath before reaching for the pen and slowly writing _I saw the two of us fighting over the entrance to the Underworld. I was angry with you, because you did not understand why I was seeking our father’s power. I still believed that I had been abandoned when we were young, that Mother had only protected you._

_To my shame, you defeated me and claimed Father’s sword, and I decided to stay behind in the demon world. You attempted to stop me, but I cut your hand to prevent you from following me._

“And then… and then you fell. Because I couldn’t save you.” Oh God. He had remembered. He knew. The things Dante had said, them fighting nearly to the death. And, most painful of all, Dante’s failure to save his twin from falling into Hell. “Vergil… I. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry!”

To his surprise, Vergil didn’t immediately push him away, but wrote in response _Why are you apologizing? I did not want you to stop me or follow me._

What?

“Why? Why not? I… I don’t understand. Because I didn’t stop you from falling, you’ve gone through all of this suffering at Mundus’ hands. But… why didn’t you want me to reach you? Why did you cut my hand? I could have kept you from falling in the first place!” Dante’s voice rose and tears streaked down his face. “I don’t understand! What do you mean you didn’t want me to follow you?! I could have come with you, and then at least we could have faced Mundus together!”

Vergil shook his head, which only confused Dante even more. _No. Mundus is too powerful. He defeated my past self with ease. He would have beaten you as well, and then both of us would have been forced to serve him. Even then, I knew that it would not do to allow you to follow me into the Underworld. You do not belong there._

“What the hell do you mean I don’t belong there?”

_The Underworld is not a fitting place for one such as you. Your soul is too human, too soft. You would have broken so easily under Mundus’ torture, and I could not bear that._

“Vergil…” Dante had so many things he wanted to say, so many feelings welling up inside him at once, but all he could do was sob and collapse against his brother. Vergil wrapped his arms around him, and from the wetness he felt fall into his hair, Vergil was crying, too. The two of them sat there for what felt like a long time, until they both worked their way down to deep breaths and sniffling. Dante clung to his twin self-consciously, fearing he was being too emotional or overbearing, but couldn’t help but murmur, “I wish you had stayed with me then. For a long time I wondered what I had done wrong to make you hate me so much that you’d rather throw yourself into hell than take my hand.” 

Vergil’s breath hitched, and he reached out for his pen and paper to write _I did not think you would want me near you after what I had done. I used you as a pawn in my pursuit of power and nearly killed you. Furthermore, there was little other reason for me to remain in the human world. I have never had any love for humans, even before now, and felt that I might belong in the Underworld better than I did in the human world. You need not ever blame yourself for my own poor decisions._

“Wh- Vergil! Of course I want you around! You’re my brother!” Dante exclaimed. “I was angry with you, but I didn’t want you to leave me like that! Oh God. Is this because I said I’d stop you even if I had to kill you?” A fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes. “Fuck. I should have never said that. I didn’t mean it, Vergil. I didn’t want to kill you. I was just.. Just a stupid, angry piece of shit.”

Vergil stared at Dante for a moment with a look of concern, slowly shaking his head before reaching for the pen once more. _No. I did not blame you for that. I was willing to kill to get what I wanted, so it was only reasonable that you would be as well, though I did not truly wish to harm you. I simply did not understand why you would reject power. I only wanted the strength to protect myself, and the things I cared about. It seemed to be a logical desire, and I could not understand why you would not feel the same way._

Vergil paused, and Dante saw him curl in on himself slightly before he continued. 

_I still do not understand. Please do not be angry with me. I will try to understand._

Dante’s heart ached. “I’m sorry, Vergil… I…” He sat up and reached for his twin’s hand, holding it gently between both of his own. “I know you don’t remember yet, and I told you about some of this already, but when we first saw each other again after ten years, we… immediately got into a fight. And then you kicked my ass and took my amulet because you wanted to use it in your plans. You gave it back and said you could come get it whenever and then a year later you sent Arkham and a bunch of demons to lure me to the Temen-ni-gru so you could take it again and use it and our blood to open a portal to the Underworld. You didn’t tell me why you were doing it or explain anything to me, so I thought you were just being an asshole for no reason. I thought you just wanted power for power’s sake.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “And I thought… you didn’t care if I lived or died as long as you got it. That you didn’t care who you hurt at all.” 

_I did not care if I hurt others, and even now it does not make sense to me that I should have cared or should care now. Neither humans nor demons outside of our family have ever shown concern for me, and I do not feel compelled to do so for them. Yet Lady has told me this is wrong, and became angry with me when I expressed why I feel this way._ Vergil paused, biting his lip; Once again, he tensed up, and Dante frowned worriedly.

_It’s hard for me to explain, but the way Lady spoke to me reminded me of Mundus. It was very disturbing. I fear I may be developing your emotional illness. I do not know how to overcome this weakness._

Oh boy. Where to start? Dante shook his head. “I mean, I- I get that, honestly. I haven’t exactly been best friends with humanity, either. I can probably count on one hand the number of people I’ve ever actually cared about,” he admitted. “But… I mean, I don’t really want to _hurt_ people, either. I try to avoid it as much as I can.”

Vergil’s face fell, and Dante realized his mistake with dawning horror even before Vergil wrote, _Then you are angry with me, too._

“No! No, that’s not- I didn’t mean it like that, I-” Dante reached for Vergil’s hand again, but Vergil pulled away. The fear in Vergil’s eyes damn near broke Dante right then and there, but he tried to push past the feeling, swallowing the despair bubbling up inside him for Vergil’s sake.

“Vergil, listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise,” Dante insisted, holding his hands up reassuringly. “I may not agree with everything you’ve ever done, but- That’s no reason to hurt you. I don’t _ever_ want that. I love you, Vergil.”

Vergil hesitated for a moment, looking uncertain, before finally allowing Dante to embrace him in a hug. Vergil collapsed against Dante’s shoulder, and again Dante felt warm tears soaking through his shirt. The way Vergil trembled in his arms broke Dante’s heart; He just seemed so… Afraid, like a lost child desperate for comfort. God, what the hell had Lady said to freak him out so much?

“Listen, I’m gonna talk to Lady about this. I get why she’s pissed, but… It’s not ok for her to talk to you like that. I’ll make sure she doesn’t do that again,” he promised.

Vergil sniffled, and gave a small nod, but otherwise gave no response. Dante kissed him on the head and rested his cheek on the spot. 

They stayed like that for several minutes, until Vergil gradually calmed down, sighing against Dante’s shoulder. Dante let his hold on Vergil relax slightly before asking, “Do you want me to go talk to Lady, or would you rather I stay here?”

Vergil gave a quiet groan as he fumbled for the paper and pen. _Stay. Please. I do not wish to be alone._

Dante nodded, and gave Vergil a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll keep you company, bro, no worries. Uh… Now that you’re feeling a little better, is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked hesitantly.

Vergil paused to think about it, frowning as he contemplated the question. After a few seconds, he heaved a long sigh and picked up the pen once again. He seemed uncertain, lifting the pen to write every few seconds and then pausing again, as if he couldn’t quite gather his thoughts enough to know where to start.

_I do not feel well. Every time I fail to live up to others’ expectations for me, they seek to punish me for it, yet it is hard for me to know what those expectations are. Demons scorn me for being too weak and humans for being too cruel. My very thoughts are a danger to me. I am in pain all the time and I do not know what to do. I fear there may be no place for me anywhere._

Dante bit his lip, and put his arm around Vergil, reaching for his hand with his other arm. “Vergil… I know how hard it can be when you don’t really fit in anywhere. I’ve dealt with that my whole life. But I promise, you’re safe here,” he insisted. “Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks- I want you to stay here with me, as long as that’s what you want, too. And I don’t know what Lady said, but I promise she doesn’t want to ‘punish’ you for anything, even if she can be a bit of an ass sometimes,” he added.

Vergil shook his head, and Dante saw fresh tears welling up in his eyes once again as he picked up the pen.

_She has made it quite clear to me that she does. She-_ Vergil paused for a moment, hand trembling as he struggled to continue. _She said that she had hoped the way I’ve suffered would teach me kindness. She wishes me to-_

That was as far as Vergil got before he dropped the pen, burying his face in his hands and curling in on himself. Dante’s heart sunk. Had Lady really said that..? Maybe Vergil had just misinterpreted. Lady wouldn’t really be that cruel… Would she?

What if she would? What if she had?

Dante pulled Vergil in for another hug, yet his thoughts lay elsewhere, dread bubbling up in the pit of his stomach as he hoped to whatever fucked up asshole of a god was out there that he wouldn’t have to lose his one-and-only friend. That she didn’t really want to torture his brother into learning compassion. God, what the fuck? This had to be some sort of sick joke. It had to be. It couldn’t be real. God, he hoped it wasn’t real.

Dante gave a sigh of frustration, and pulled Vergil closer, holding him against his chest protectively. Like hell he was going to let anyone hurt Vergil ever again, regardless of what he’d done in the past.

* * *

Lady had kicked up her feet onto the table and was leaning back in her chair when Dante climbed up onto the roof. She felt his eyes on her but waited a few moments to look back at him, and when she did, she inwardly grimaced at the disappointment and displeasure on his face. 

Great. Vergil must have told him what happened, and she must have come off as a huge asshole.

“So,” Dante began through gritted teeth, crossing his arms. “Vergil told me you two got into a little fight. And he told me some of the things you said.”

Lady sighed, shaking her head at Dante. “Look, I’ll admit maybe I was a bit harsh, but… I mean, he fucking killed people! What, am I supposed to just-”

“He thinks you want to torture him, Lady.”

Lady blinked. “What..?”

“Like, did you fucking forget he’s spent the past decade being tortured by Mundus? And you had the nerve to say you wish he would’ve _learned from that?”_ Dante snarled. “How fucking tasteless can you be? He’s terrified out of his fucking mind! I came home, he was curled up in the corner clinging to his sword and fucking shaking, because you basically just told him he should be tortured into learning empathy! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Lady got up from the chair, crossing her arms in front of her defensively. “I… Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that, Dante.”

“Then how the fuck did you mean it?!”

“I don’t know! I sure as hell don’t want to torture him though! I guess I just… It still really makes me so fucking angry that all those people died and he doesn’t even care! How can someone experience so much suffering and not give a damn when they see someone else suffer?!”

For a moment, Dante looked… Almost confused. Then his gaze softened, a tired, distant look in his eyes- As if disappointed, yet resigned.

“You really don’t get it at all, do you?” he said quietly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Get what?” Lady questioned, a part of her almost dreading the answer. What the hell was Dante talking about?

Dante sighed, and sat down in the other chair, running a hand through his hair.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why I became a devil hunter, of all things, instead of getting a normal job? Or why you and Morrison are the only people who ever come around the shop? Or why half the time, when I do a job for someone, instead of a thank you I get a damages bill?” Dante began, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t be around normal people, Lady, because normal people don’t _want_ me around them. Sure, I look human enough at first glance, but everyone can tell something’s off about me, and they don’t like it. I’ve spent my whole life being treated like shit just for existing, and the only humans who ever treated me like a person…” He sighed, and took Ebony from its holster, running his fingers gently along the engraving on the side. “They wound up dead.”

Lady frowned. “Ok, that’s fucked up, but-”

“I wasn’t finished,” Dante interrupted, though he didn’t meet Lady’s gaze. “It really fucks you up, living like that. Being treated like you don’t matter. Having no one to rely on but yourself. I’m not a so-called ‘good person’ because being half human magically makes me better than the ‘bad’ demons, or something- I actively _choose_ not to treat other people like shit, and honestly? Sometimes it’s really fucking hard to make that choice, because almost nobody ever shows me the same respect,” he admitted with a growl. “But you know what? I _still_ had it better than Vergil growing up. Because I at least got to grow up knowing that my mom loved me. But Vergil?” Dante sighed and shook his head. “Vergil thought Mom abandoned him. He was _eight goddamn years old_ when he became convinced that absolutely no one cared if he lived or died. And aside from me, he was probably right!”

“Dante-”

“So is it really so fucking hard to understand why he might not be the most sympathetic person ever?! No, the shit he did isn’t ok, but god, can’t you at least try to understand why he isn’t all fucking sunshine and rainbows?!” Dante finished, practically hissing at Lady.

Oh. “I guess I never thought about it that way. I’m sorry, Dante.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to him.”

Lady bit her lip, and nodded. “Yeah. I- I will. You’re right.”

“Damn right you will,” Dante grumbled, huffing slightly. With that, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the ladder. “I’m going downstairs. I need a fuckin’ drink.”

Lady watched as Dante’s head disappeared beneath the roof, and let out a breath. For a moment, she simply stared blankly at the ladder, thinking over the things Dante had said; She glanced once again towards the crumpled note, and sighed, feeling a pang of something somewhere between guilt and embarrassment.

Shoving the note back into her pocket once again, Lady slowly, reluctantly descended the ladder back down to the shop.

* * *

Nelo Angelo watched as Dante stomped back down the stairs, and frowned worriedly. He closed the book in his hands (It wasn’t like he’d actually been reading it, anyway- He’d found himself unable to truly focus, mostly just pretending to read it as if to trick his mind into relaxing), and gave Dante a questioning look. Had things not gone well with Lady? Was she angry at Dante now, too? Nelo Angelo reached for the pen.

“Before you ask,” Dante interrupted, just as Nelo Angelo put the pen to the paper, “Lady’s not mad. Everything’s fine, I’m just… Pissed at the fact that I even had to talk to her about this shit, that’s all. She should’ve fuckin’ known better, but whatever.” He sighed, shoving open the kitchen door unceremoniously.

A moment later, Dante returned with a plastic cup. He opened the small refrigerator, took out a can of what Nelo Angelo had learned to be called “soda”, and grabbed a glass bottle seemingly at random from a nearby shelf. He poured the two drinks into the cup, took a large sip, and wiped his mouth before proclaiming the concoction, “Awful. You want some, Vergil?”

Nelo Angelo frowned, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose in distaste. Why would Dante offer him a drink that he himself clearly disliked? Such foolishness.

“Suit yourself, I guess.” Dante shrugged, and took another sip of the strange drink. “You want pizza?”

That, Nelo Angelo could appreciate. He nodded- And then his gaze snapped towards the staircase as the sound of another set of footsteps caught his attention.

Suddenly, all the dread and unease he had only barely managed to set aside returned to Nelo Angelo in full force, creating an uncomfortable heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He found himself reflexively leaning closer to Dante, glancing around to be sure he knew where his sword was as Lady stepped slowly down the stairs.

She looked chagrined and shamefaced as she walked up to him, her arms crossed in front of her and her fingers tapping on an elbow. “So, uh, Vergil…” She sighed and lifted her head to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t really take into account everything you’ve been through and kind of… was too harsh on you. I apologize.”

Nelo Angelo did not think anyone besides Dante had apologized to him before. What was the proper response in this situation? She had certainly been in the wrong, but lording that over her seemed… unnecessary. At least in front of Dante. Instead, he nodded slowly in acknowledgement, and both Lady and Dante looked somewhat satisfied. 

“Okay. Thank you, Lady.” Dante spoke for him, thankfully. He put a hand on Nelo Angelo’s shoulder and asked “So bro, how about we order some pizza? Pizza always makes me feel better.”

That actually sounded quite agreeable. Nelo Angelo nodded with a small smile on his face, and felt a pleasant warmth when Dante returned it. He watched as Dante reached for the phone on the desk, dialing what Nelo Angelo assumed was the number for pizza. (Though Lady had explained to him the purpose of the phone, and its alleged ability to communicate with anyone, Nelo Angelo had yet to see it used for much of anything other than ordering pizza. Then again, he wasn’t sure why one would want to use it for anything else, anyway.)

Lady and Nelo Angelo both watched silently as Dante held the phone to his ear, waiting for the response, which evidently came several seconds later. “Yeah, can I get three large pizzas with-”

A sudden, muffled _pop_ sound came through the walls, and with it, the lights abruptly went out. All three of the room’s occupants looked up in surprise, and Dante stared in confusion at the phone for a moment, before sighing and putting it back down.

“So much for pizza, I guess. Great.”

“Been skipping out on the electricity bill again, Dante?” Lady asked with a knowing, almost disappointed tone, raising an eyebrow at Dante. 

Dante sighed. “Yeah, uh… Thing is, I haven’t exactly had many paying jobs lately, and what with everything going on this past week I guess I just kinda… Forgot it was due?” he winced slightly.

Nelo Angelo frowned, feeling slightly lost. Why had the lights turned off? What was an ‘electricity bill’, and what did it have to do with hunting demons? And _why_ was Dante suddenly implying there would be no pizza after all? How absurd.

Nelo Angelo reached for the pen and paper, and glanced towards Lady for a moment before writing in careful English, _I am confyused._

Tossing his empty cup of vile liquid in the general direction of the garbage can (and missing spectacularly), Dante leaned against the desk, crossed his arms, and shook his head in dismay. “Basically, the phone and the lights are both electric. As are the TV, the jukebox, the guitar amps… The fridge…” He sighed. “Electricity don’t come free, unfortunately, and uh… I’m fresh out of money, so… Looks like we won’t be having pizza or lights any time soon.”

Nelo Angelo’s frown deepened. _I see._ He paused for a moment, tilting his head as he thought about Dante’s explanation, and then continued: _What is “MuneY”?_

Dante and Lady’s faces and body language seemed to reveal a bizarre string of emotions as they read Nelo Angelo’s note: Shock, confusion, pity, exasperation, more confusion. What exactly was going on, Nelo Angelo wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated by their reactions.

“Oh boy, you really weren’t kidding about not knowing anything, huh,” Lady groaned. At the sight of Nelo Angelo’s irritated scowl, she held up a hand- “Sorry, I’m not judging you or anything, I’m just… Not sure how the hell to explain the concept of money. It’s, uh, kind of complicated.” 

“It’s… hmm… It’s kinda like this,” Dante began. “With demons, all you need to get to the top is strength. It’s all about who can beat the shit out of who. But with humans, it’s all about who’s got more money. People trade money for stuff,” he explained. “If I want pizza, I gotta give the pizza guy money. If the pizza guy wants me to kill a demon, he has to give _me_ money. And if I want the lights on, I gotta give the electricity company money.”

Nelo Angelo raised an eyebrow, and picked up the pen once again.

_What exacTley is thiS muney, to Make it so valiabel?_

“Uh, well, it’s- And don’t ask me why, ‘cause I don’t know this shit, I didn’t go to school- It’s usually pieces of paper, or sometimes little pieces of metal, or sometimes just kind of the abstract idea of like, having money.”

Nelo Angelo frowned in confusion. _We havE much paper._ He held up the piece of paper he was writing on for emphasis.

Dante shook his head. “Not just any paper. It’s like, special paper.”

Nelo Angelo frowned once again, and went quiet for a moment, thinking over Dante’s explanation.

He thought about it, and he thought about it some more.

He did not feel any less confused. If anything, his confusion had only grown deeper. He huffed and picked up the pen.

_This seemes Very convaLooted and stupid. HuMans are verry foolish. I do Not undeRstand why they musT Make evrryThing so comPlakated._

“Me the fuck either, dude.” Dante sighed and threw his hands up in exasperation. “All I know is, that’s the way it is, and the fact of the matter is I’m out of money.”

Nelo Angelo gave a quiet hum, closing his eyes in thought for a moment. He opened them again, and reached for the pen once more.

_Come. Let us Find the ilektrisitey Masters. We will reClaym what is ours._ He stood up, and reached for his sword, turning towards the door.

_“No!”_ Dante and Lady both simultaneously exclaimed, hurrying to stop Nelo Angelo’s expedition before it could begin. He huffed, staring at them in irritation. 

Why did Dante feel so compelled to live by the humans’ laws? It was one thing to decide to live among them, and another to be beholden to their society. It would be far simpler and more effective to just find whoever it was that supplied the electricity to their home, and intimidate them into returning it. Nelo Angelo understood that Lady and Dante, for whatever reason, disapproved of killing and unnecessarily violence- But surely there was no harm in intimidation? They had both already insisted that Nelo Angelo’s appearance was too frightening to humans for him to be allowed out of the house. Presumably it wouldn’t take much to coerce the electricity masters into turning the lights back on. (How cowardly humans were…)

“C’mon, bro, relax. It’s- It’s fine. We’ll get this sorted out, let’s not do anything crazy,” Dante insisted. Nelo Angelo scoffed, but sat back down. His idea wasn’t crazy, Dante was just being too soft. How annoying that that was something he often found endearing about his twin. 

“I’ll call Morrison for you from my place,” Lady told Dante. “I’m sure he can find a job for you.”

“Man… I was really hoping to avoid work until-” Dante glanced at Nelo Angelo- “You know, until we get everything properly dealt with, but… I guess I don’t have much of a choice, huh. A life without pizza just isn’t a life worth living.” He shook his head in dismay, but nonetheless gave Lady a look of gratitude. “Thanks, Lady.”

“Anytime, Dante. Besides, the sooner you get back to work, the sooner you can pay off the money you owe me,” she added with a haughty smirk.

Dante rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re really never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

With that, Lady left, and Dante and Nelo Angelo were left alone in their home. Dante turned to Nelo Angelo, concern in his eyes, and asked “You’re sure you’re ok, right?”

Nelo Angelo nodded, gazing at the door for several moments after Lady shut it behind her. Dante noticed. “What is it, Vergil? Is it something about Lady?”

He reached for his paper and pen, answering _I have a question, about you and Lady._

His twin raised an eyebrow. “Okayyy? Ask away, bro.”

Nelo Angelo hesitated, pen hovering over the paper. What would be the best way to approach this inquiry without angering Dante or causing a misunderstanding? Perhaps being honest and forthright would work?

_I wish to understand better why you and Lady hold so much concern for humans whom you do not know. There is no strategic advantage, as you spend effort caring for those who likely give no such thought to you, and leave yourself open to be manipulated by those who would take advantage of any emotional attachments you have. Even if you save one human’s life, another will surely be cut down and take their place in human society, correct? You do not know their names, and in the cases of the dead, probably never will._

_As for me, you’ve told me that I am not allowed to go out for fear of causing any unwanted panic in the humans. While I agree it is not the best idea to draw extra attention when Mundus is already surveilling us, the fact that no human would be accepting of my appearance and you feel the need to hide your demonic heritage from them makes me even less inclined to feel anything for them besides indifference or disdain. And yet Lady was angry about this, though my reaction is only logical for what I have known and been taught from my experiences in the Underworld and what I have recovered of my memories._

_Ultimately, what I want to know is: what do you have to gain from caring for humans? Why is it so wrong that I do not express the same feelings as the two of you?_

_Please do not be angry with me for asking. I simply do not understand._

“Vergil…” Dante sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not mad at you, okay? You don’t have to worry about that. As for the rest…”

Honestly? I don’t really get much out of it or gain anything by caring about people. That’s not really the point. I don’t have to tell you that the world kind of fucking sucks, and if no one cared about anyone else, it would be even worse than it is already. And, I guess if you want to think about it this way, Dad had to seen something in humans worth caring about right? Why else would he have turned against Mundus?” 

But yeah, I don’t get much out of it. A lot of people are assholes who love screwing other people over, and I’ve had a bunch attack me directly for various reasons over the years. Some of those times were clients or wannabe clients who were pissed off that I didn’t want to do the job they brought me because it rubbed me the wrong way. I’ve never felt like I belonged around humans because of the demonic blood in me, and it’s not like demons see me as anything but the son of the great traitor, so it’s not like I have a home with them either. But…” He paused, glancing towards the desk with a contemplative look. “I dunno… There are moments, every once in a blue fuckin’ moon, where I do something for someone and they actually appreciate it. And it feels… Nice, I guess. Knowing that I can help people, that I can make life a little less shitty sometimes… It almost makes me feel like maybe there’s a point to me being alive. Like I’m not just a good-for-nothing lying on a couch all day.”

Nelo Angelo frowned as he thought about Dante’s answer. That last part was… Somewhat alarming, but he chose not to focus on it too much, prioritizing trying to understand Dante’s explanation. Was it merely psychological, then? If so, then… That still did not answer the question of why it was so wrong for Nelo Angelo to not experience such feelings. He gave a quiet hum, and picked up the pen.

_So it brings you a sense of achievement. I can understand that. However, I feel I still do not understand why my lack of such feelings is so wrong. Is there some element I have overlooked?_

Dante’s brow furrowed in confusion as he read Nelo Angelo’s response. “I mean, I guess that’s part of it? But that’s not quite… It’s not really… Hmm.” He sighed, and crossed his arms, frowning as he thought about how to rephrase things. “It’s not… Necessarily about _me,_ so much as it is about other people. Like, think of it this way- If I died, you’d be sad, right?”

Nelo Angelo stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath, feeling his chest ache slightly at the mere thought of losing Dante. He met Dante’s gaze and gave a sharp, solemn nod.

“Right, well other people aren’t so different from me- I mean, they are, but like… uh… Like, they all have their own lives, yeah? And their lives are important. They have people who would be sad if they died, too. So it’s important to keep that in mind when you’re interacting with others. ‘Treat people the way you want to be treated’, or whatever, you know? So I guess that’s the best way for you to approach it. You’d want to be treated with kindness, so be kind to other people. And if they decide to be a dick to you anyway, well, you can decide on where to go from there.”

Nelo Angelo paused, watching Dante as he considered this. 

Treat people the way he would want to be treated, huh… His first thought was that he would like humans to leave him alone, thank you very much. And yet… No, that wasn’t exactly what he wanted, was it?

What Nelo Angelo wanted was… Freedom. Safety. The freedom to live a life of his own, rather than being broken into submission and forced to serve his master’s whims regardless of his own desires. He wanted a life free from pain, where he could have his own thoughts, his own opinions, make his own choices, rather than having every “wrong” thought burned out of his mind. He wanted… He wanted to stop being hurt. 

Perhaps Dante had a point. Nelo Angelo held no love for humans, and he wasn’t sure he ever would, and yet… At the very least, maybe he could agree not to hurt them. That much seemed fair enough. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, humming in thought before giving his response. 

_I see. I believe I understand a little better now. Thank you, Dante. When viewed in this light, it does seem that my past actions may be regrettable._ He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. _I have heard rumors of magic capable of reviving the dead. Perhaps through necromancy they might be restored?_

Dante’s eyes widened, and he made a sound somewhere between laughing and choking. “Woah, uh, let’s not go _that_ far. No way in hell are we gonna try necromancy. I’d like to keep my limbs, thanks,” he insisted, wincing slightly. “I know you mean well, bro, but that’s not the best way to handle this. Humans freak out about zombies.”

Nelo Angelo frowned. _Then what would you have me do to right my wrongs?_

“Uh… Honestly, I don’t really have an easy answer to that. Thing about murder is it’s kinda permanent,” Dante replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I hate to say it, but I’m not sure it’s really the sort of thing you can make up for. Really the best thing to do is just, you know… Don’t do murder anymore. And try to do what you can to help people,” he suggested.

Nelo Angelo’s lack of enthusiasm towards this concept must have shown on his face, as after a few seconds Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m not saying you have to run around doing favors for the whole city, just… Like, don’t be a dick, yeah?” he clarified. “It’s like Spider-Man says, ‘with great power comes great responsibility’. You and I are a lot stronger than most humans, so we have a responsibility to use that strength to protect people instead of murdering them. That’s all.”

Nelo Angelo raised an eyebrow at this. _I am unfamiliar with this spider human, but I suppose I can understand your point. Very well. I shall avoid unnecessary harm towards others in the future. And should I ever encounter humans and demons in the same area, I will not allow the demons to simply eat the humans, I suppose. Does this satisfy you?_

Dante gave an amused snort, and placed a hand on Nelo Angelo’s shoulder. “Whatever. Close enough, dude.”

With that, Nelo Angelo gave a nod of satisfaction, and placed the pen down. He sighed, glad to have resolved the misunderstanding between himself and Dante and Lady. At least that was one less problem to worry about.

Although… There was still the issue of the house’s lack of electricity, which, according to Dante, was necessary to power many of the devices located around the shop. The lack of lights was particularly troubling; The sun would surely set soon, and Nelo Angelo lacked the low-light vision of some of his fellow demons, something that had always frustrated him. He still maintained that the simplest solution would be to find whoever was responsible and intimidate them into restoring power to the house, while Dante insisted on doing things according to human customs- Yet what, exactly, _were_ those customs? Dante had mentioned something about “working” in order to obtain the coveted “money”... Dante was a devil hunter, Nelo Angelo knew, so surely that was the key to achieving victory. Perhaps if they worked together, the task could be completed twice as quickly.

_If we hunt enough demons, the electricity masters will restore light to the house, correct?_ He wrote.

“Uh… Not exactly. It’s a little more complicated than that,” Dante admitted. “Remember I told you about money?” Nelo Angelo nodded- Though he still didn’t quite understand the logic behind the concept. “Right, so the electricity company doesn’t actually give a shit whether or not I kill demons. All they want is money. So to get that money, I’m gonna have to take on some jobs.”

Nelo Angelo gave Dante a questioning look. Dante flopped down on the couch next to Nelo Angelo, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he gave his explanation.

“Basically, I gotta find people who have something they want me to do, and are willing to pay me to do it. Usually that’s killing demons, but occasionally I’ll do other stuff that’s vaguely related- Mercenary work, retrieving weird cursed artifacts or stopping wannabe demon cults, shit like that.” He shrugged. “Some of my work comes from walk-in clients- People come here during certain times of day, they tell me what they want, I either agree to do it or tell ‘em I’m not interested. The rest of my work usually comes from a guy named Morrison, a friend of mine who deals in information. If he hears about something that sounds up my alley, he passes it on to me.”

Morrison… Nelo Angelo recalled Lady mentioning someone by that name as well, promising to speak to him on behalf of Dante. Both she and Dante seemed confident that this Morrison would be able to provide work for Dante. Presumably, then, it would not be long before an opportunity to obtain money would present itself.

The more he thought about it, the more Nelo Angelo realized he was not truly opposed to the idea. Much as he disliked the idea of speaking with humans, and much as he was tired of taking orders from others, he had to admit it sounded far more interesting than simply sitting around being miserable as they had been. Nelo Angelo relished challenges and combat, and save for his brief skirmish with Lady, he had not done battle since Dante had proclaimed that he would not fight Nelo Angelo. The opportunity to go out and fight would most certainly be a welcome one, even if it did regrettably come at the cost of speaking with humans.

Nelo Angelo gave a determined nod and a small smile, one Dante returned in kind.


	9. Changes and Adjustments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Rachel (catboysam):
> 
> Some nice things happen in this chapter!!! I hope you enjoy those things and also thanks for reading and commenting!!
> 
> From Alex (EmeraldTrash666):
> 
> I AM THE STORM THAT IS MOOOOOOOOOPING, BADLY COOOOOOOPING, UPSTAIRS IN IIIIIISOLATION. I AM CONFUSED ABOUT MY NAAAAAME,

Dante chewed his lip as he studied the cards in his hand, hunched over the coffee table with a half-empty bottle of tomato juice by his side.

“Ok, Vergil… Got any twos?” he asked, glancing up at his opponent.

Vergil examined his own hand for a moment from his seat on the floor, and then shook his head.

“Damn.”

As Dante reached for the draw pile in the center of the table, the bell at the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a visitor; A familiar set of footsteps and the smell of cigar smoke told Dante exactly who it was, and he grinned as he glanced up. “Hey, Morrison! Man, am I glad to see you!”

“Morning, Dante, glad to see you made it back in one-” Morrison suddenly froze, abruptly dropping his cigar and going slightly pale as he caught sight of Vergil. “Jesus! What the hell is  _ that?!” _

Vergil scoffed in irritation, but Dante ignored him, turning his attention instead back towards Morrison. “Oh yeah. Morrison, this is my brother, Vergil. Vergil, this is my friend Morrison,” he introduced the two.

Vergil gave Dante an uncertain glance, but nonetheless nodded in acknowledgement towards Morrison, to Dante’s relief. Morrison, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite so calm. He stared at Vergil with wide eyes, and then his gaze drifted towards Dante; Dante frowned slightly at the way Morrison looked at him, a look in his eyes as if he were calculating a risk.

“Now, Dante… I know you miss your brother, but…  _ That’s a fucking zombie,” _ Morrison half-whispered, leaning in closer to Dante and stealing a glance at Vergil before shaking his head hastily.

Dante sighed. So much for an easy introduction.

“He’s not a zombie! He just looks like one. He’s not actually dead. Uh, right?” he added, giving Vergil a questioning glance.

Vergil frowned for a moment, glancing down at himself as if to check, and then nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, so… Morrison, you remember how I told you I was going to that island to try to take down Mundus? My dad’s old nemesis, or whatever?” Dante continued.

“How could I forget? You made it sound like you were going to your grave,” Morrison recalled, shuddering slightly as he reached for another cigar from his pocket. (Dante couldn’t help but notice Morrison wrinkling his nose slightly at Vergil, and raised an eyebrow, but otherwise gave no comment. Best not to piss Vergil off any further.)

“Right. Well, while I was there, I ran into this guy,” Dante explained, nodding towards Vergil. “Turns out, all those years ago, he didn’t actually die- He got captured by Mundus, who… Turned him into this. Made him do his dirty work.” He sighed. “Luckily, I was able to bring Vergil back here, and… We’re working on fixing things. Mundus wiped his memory, so he doesn’t remember everything, but he’s making progress.”

Morrison continued to stare at Vergil for a few seconds, with Vergil returning the sentiment. Finally, Morrison took a long, long- Ok, Dante was getting slightly concerned now- long drag on his cigar, and shook his head slowly.

“Would’ve been nice of Lady to warn me… I swear, Dante, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day, but somehow you always manage to take it to the next level,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, I’m just talented like that,” Dante replied sarcastically. “Anyway. You got a job for me, or did you just come here to insult my brother?”

Morrison shook his head and shifted into professional mode. “As a matter of fact, I do. There’s been a pack of demons spotted on the far edge of town ‘round one of the construction sites. Nothing particularly big or scary from what I’ve been told, but demons are demons. I figure it’d be best to get rid of ‘em right away.”

“Mm… Sounds boring, but I’ll take what I can get,” Dante replied with a shrug. “Just give me the address.”

Vergil, on the other hand, seemed less than enthusiastic, meeting Dante’s gaze with a worried frown as Morrison handed Dante a note with the relevant information. 

“Alright, thanks Morrison. I’d ask if you wanted to meet back here when I’m done, but how about we just meet at Fredi’s instead since the power’s out?”

“I’d appreciate that. See you soon, Dante.” Morrison nodded at Dante, then also hesitantly at Vergil, and left the shop.

With Morrison gone, Dante pocketed the note and yawned, stretching out lazily. “A pack of lesser demons, huh… Well, I guess I could use the exercise anyway. Shouldn’t take me too long, probably take longer to get there than to actually kill ‘em,” he told Vergil, and then paused, frowning slightly at the troubled look on Vergil’s face. “What’s up, Vergil?”

Vergil was already writing, and quickly handed Dante a piece of paper that said _ I suspect that those demons may be sent by Mundus to draw us out. We must be on our guard. _

Dante grimaced. “I get what you’re saying, bro, but like… Mundus already knows where we live. He doesn’t  _ have  _ to draw us out.”

Vergil blinked before scowling and writing  _ I had momentarily forgotten, though remembering that fact is not particularly comforting.  _

“Yeah, well, we’re just going to have to get you out of that armor sooner rather than later so we can go kick Mundus’ ass together, then we won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Dante replied, patting his twin’s arm. “In the meantime, the utilities and pizza aren’t gonna pay for themselves, so I need to go do this job, okay?”

His twin nodded and reached for his enormous sword, to Dante’s immediate dismay. “Hey hold on Vergil, what are you doing?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow and gestured to the door. Oh crap. He thought they were going together. Hopefully he’d let Dante let him down gently…

“Uh, Vergil… You have to stay here. I’m going alone.” Dante braced himself for the immediate fallout, which came in the form of Vergil grunting in very negative surprise and shaking his head firmly, pointing at himself, then Dante, and then the door. “I get you want to go together, man. But I have to go all the way across the city, and I don’t want anyone freaking out or trying to shoot you or anything like that because they don’t know you.”

Vergil gave a low growl of irritation, glancing towards the door. After a moment’s pause, he turned back towards the table and picked up the pen to write.

_ I do not think it would be wise to split up right now. I realize you’re most likely correct about these demons not being Mundus’ doing, but even so, what if he decides to take advantage of the situation and attack while you’re alone? It would be safer to go together. I do not care if humans shoot at me. Their unsophisticated weaponry means nothing to me. _

“Honestly, I’m not so much worried about you getting shot as I am about the consequences if that were to happen. If you think regular humans are annoying to talk to, you don’t even wanna know what it’s like dealing with cops,” Dante groaned, rolling his eyes. “But hey, you don’t have to worry about me, alright? I can handle myself. I didn’t make it halfway through Castle Ugly and the Bobo Brigade for nothing, you know,” he pointed out.

Vergil glanced away for a moment, a worried expression on his face, before writing,  _ Overestimating one’s abilities is a dangerous mistake, Dante. I know this from experience. Don’t be a fool. _

Dante opened his mouth to respond- And then closed it again, biting his lip. Ok, maybe Vergil had a point.

Dante sighed. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But, hey… I’ve been through a lot of shit over the years, and nobody’s ever managed to beat me except for you. So unless Mundus himself shows up, I should be fine. And I’m gonna guess that won’t happen, since… I mean, if he could’ve come over here and kicked my ass himself, I don’t see why Mundus would’ve gone to the trouble of trying to lure me to his freaky island,” he reasoned.

Vergil crossed his arms and tilted his head, taking in Dante’s words with a quiet “hmm”. After a moment, he sighed, and nodded slowly.

_ Very well, I suppose you have a point. But be on your guard. Do not do anything rash. _

“If I didn’t do anything rash, I wouldn’t be me!” Dante grinned, then when Vergil glared at him, gave a more serious smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. See you soon, okay?”

Vergil nodded, then grunted as if he had just remembered something. He picked up the paper and wrote  _ Do you have anything that would allow me to clean my armor and body? It seems that your informant was… bothered by my scent. Though I am not sure why as I did not think humans could sense demonic scents. _

Dante shrugged. “They can’t usually, you just kind of stink like blood, bro. But you can use the shower if you want. The H is for hot water, C is for cold, and feel free to use my shampoo to wash your hair. Think you can handle it?”

Vergil scoffed in his “You underestimate me, little brother” way, but nodded with a grateful smile on his face. Then he did something Dante did not expect: he leaned down and kissed Dante on the forehead. Dante stood there for several moments, completely taken by surprise. “Vergil…?”

His twin smiled down at him, his expression unbearably soft and full of affection, and Dante had a wonderful realization. He had someone waiting for him when he came back. His brother, who he had missed so much it hurt both emotionally and physically, would be there when he got home. It was hard to believe it was real.

“Vergil, you can’t just make me cry right before I go out on a job, man!” Dante muttered, wrapping his arms around his twin and pressing his forehead to his chestplate. Vergil hummed as if he hadn’t just made Dante feel happier than he had in years and hugged him back, resting his unarmored hand on the back of Dante’s head. After a few minutes they both let go and stepped away from each other somewhat reluctantly.

“Okay, ‘bye for real this time. It shouldn’t take too long.” Dante walked to the door and paused, looking back over his shoulder. “See ya, Vergil.”

Vergil, intent on surprising him once again, replied in his deep, raspy voice, “Dan..te… Be… sssfe.”

Damn it, if he didn’t go now he’d never get this job done. So Dante had to settle for choking out, “I will,” before leaving the shop and closing the door behind him, hoping that the day he and Vergil would be able to go out together without fear would come soon.

* * *

Nelo Angelo almost regretted his attempt to speak as the words left his mouth, scraping painfully out of his throat like hot burrs. What a fool he was; Not moments ago had he warned Dante against doing anything rash, yet here he was, allowing his emotions to get the better of him to the point of nearly forgetting the realities of his condition. Whatever Mundus had done to him made his body’s acoustics ill-suited to anything more than animalistic growls, quite literally silencing Nelo Angelo, forcing him to never forget his place. He couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that Dante had left so quickly, as he no doubt would have been upset to see how it pained Nelo Angelo to speak. 

After several minutes and one eagerly guzzled bottle of tomato juice, the irritation in Nelo Angelo’s throat gradually subsided. He nodded in satisfaction, placed the bottle neatly in the trash, and headed towards the stairs to focus on his next objective: Getting clean.

Today was not a good day for taking his own advice, Nelo Angelo thought with a pang of embarrassment, as he stood in the bathroom doorway and realized that despite his response to Dante’s comment, he very distinctly did not know how to use the shower.

He was aware, on some level, of the existence and purpose of the shower. Every morning Dante would go into the bathroom and close the door, and Nelo Angelo would hear the sound of running water; Some time later, Dante would emerge, usually shirtless, with his hair wet and smelling of ice cream while a fluffy cloth apparently known as a “towel” covered his shoulders. Yet Dante always kept the door closed when using the shower, and no such devices existed in the underworld to Nelo Angelo’s knowledge… Meaning he had no idea what occurred between Dante entering the bathroom and emerging clean. Dante had told him how to turn the water on, but surely there had to be more to it than that? And what was “shampoo”?

Well, no matter. How complicated could it possibly be? Nelo Angelo knew himself to be among the cleverest of Mundus’ generals, and he seemed to have caught on to most elements of human life fairly easily. Surely if he took his time and thought things through, there was no reason he wouldn’t be able to solve this mystery on his own.

With this in mind, he took to investigating the room. The toilet and sink he already was familiar with; The shower, then, must have been the large tub off to the side of the room, surrounded by tiled walls. Attached to the walls were two faucets, a plastic curtain, and a small basket, which contained two large rectangular bottles and some sort of small brick. Perhaps one of those objects was the “shampoo” Dante had mentioned? Curious, Nelo Angelo reached for one of the bottles, and found that it was labeled with large amounts of text.

Jackpot- Not only was the bottle indeed the shampoo he was looking for, but it even came with directions on what to do with it! How fortunate. The other bottle, labeled “conditioner”, bore similar instructions, as well as proclaiming something about making hair soft or… Well, Nelo Angelo didn’t particularly understand the purpose of it and didn’t care to read further, but no matter. He’d follow the instructions anyway. It seemed like the correct thing to do.

The small brick, on the other hand, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. It seemed to be made of a rather soft material, and smelled faintly of… Something, though he was uncertain what that something was. He frowned slightly, looking the brick over as he tried to divine its purpose. Neither bottle had mentioned anything about washing one’s body, so… Maybe that was the purpose of the brick? But how could it possibly be useful? Was he meant to beat the dirt out? That didn’t quite seem right. 

Nelo Angelo sighed. He had so many questions, and no one around to answer them. He’d simply have to do his best with what he already knew, and hope the answers to his questions would become clear as he proceeded.

First things first: A towel. The towel, he surmised, was most likely for the purpose of drying off after washing, which seemed fairly important, as he did not want to spend the rest of the day dripping wet. Fortunately, it did not take him long to find one, as there seemed to be several in a small shelf behind the door. Next… What next? The water, perhaps?

Leaving the towel in its place, Nelo Angelo crouched down by the side of the tub, leaning over to reach the faucet. As Dante had said, it bore two knobs, one labeled H for hot, and the other C for cold- Yet it also seemed to have a strange plug of some sort sticking out of the top of the spout, which the kitchen sink did not. Nelo Angelo pulled at it idly, and suddenly the water stopped, as a rumbling came from behind the wall; No sooner had Nelo Angelo begun examining it in confusion and curiosity than the water came pouring back out from the faucet near the ceiling, this time coming in a wide spray rather than a narrow stream. The water hit Nelo Angelo in the face, and he spluttered in surprise, pulling back quickly and wiping his face with an irritated growl.

Well. That was one mystery solved, at least. Presumably, the shower’s second faucet was up high to make it easier to wash one’s body.

Despite this all-too-reasonable assumption, Nelo Angelo had to wonder if he’d been incorrect as he attempted to cram his large body into the painfully small shower. He crouched uncomfortably in the tub, bashing his forehead into the upper faucet by mistake more than once; Moving around was difficult, and he hoped Dante wouldn’t notice the number of new cracks in the wall tiles left by Nelo Angelo’s armored elbows. Still, with great effort and no small amount of irritated growls (most certainly in lieu of the profanities his body would not allow him to utter), he somehow managed to wash his hair as per the shampoo bottle’s directions.

Nelo Angelo sighed as he combed his fingers through his hair. The warm water felt surprisingly… Nice, somehow slightly soothing the deep aching that permeated his body at all times. Perhaps the shower wasn’t all bad despite its small size, he thought to himself as he began rinsing the shampoo from his hair, feeling the water run down his head and face and-

The water dripped down into Nelo Angelo’s eyes, and suddenly he felt a stinging, burning pain, like nothing he’d encountered before in all his years of torture nor any corner of hell. He hissed in pain and reflexively rubbed at his eyes- But this was a poor decision, as the stinging suddenly only worsened with the contact. He had to make it stop! Howling in agony, Nelo Angelo clawed at his face, bumping into seemingly everything in the shower as his eyes burned. Why had the shampoo done this to him?! Maybe- Maybe the water could-

Nelo Angelo tilted his head back desperately and let the water pour over his face, seeping into his eyes (and his nose, and his ears, and his mouth, and seemingly doing everything it could to make him more uncomfortable than he already was, but it didn’t matter). The hot water hurt as well, but it seemed to be a different sort of pain, and soon the stinging began to fade.

Nelo Angelo leaned against the wall, gasping for breath as he slowly blinked his eyes open. His vision was somewhat blurry and his eyes felt… Ironically quite dry, but at least the stinging pain had mostly subsided. What the hell  _ was  _ that, though? Why would humans use such a clearly toxic substance to wash themselves? Though, admittedly, it hadn’t hurt until it’d gotten in his eyes… Sighing, Nelo Angelo slowly began to rinse the last of the shampoo from his hair, tilting his head quite far back and swearing to never let the shampoo anywhere near his eyes ever again.

After rinsing it out, he decided to inspect the small brick again. As soon as he grasped it, however, it shot out of his hand due to how wet it was from the shower water. Nelo Angelo sighed. Must everything be such a hassle? It had also left some kind of residue on his hand. Curious, Nelo Angelo rubbed it between his fingers, and it lathered up similarly to how the shampoo had in his hair. Perhaps this was to clean his body with after all. Taking the brick in a more cautious grip, he rubbed it between his hands and then rubbed his hands on his armor as if he was polishing it. As he did so, grime and dried blood bits started coming off and running down his body and washed down the drain. Excellent. 

He cleaned as much of his body and armor that he could reach, and then very carefully washed his face as well, making sure not to get any of the lather into his eyes. After completely rinsing his face and body, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel and drying himself off. It seemed he had underestimated how wet he had gotten, so he grabbed a second towel once the first one was too damp to continue drying off, and wrung out his soaked cape over the shower drain. Satisfied that he was not going to trail water all over the shop and assuredly smelling much better, Nelo Angelo left the bathroom.

As Nelo Angelo returned downstairs, carefully avoiding the broken step, he gave a contemplative hum. What was he to do now? Perhaps he could do some reading… But just as he had this thought, a drop of water splashed down from his hair onto the breastplate of his armor, and he sighed. No, it wouldn’t do to get the books wet. If only his hair would dry more quickly…

A heat source would likely help, he realized. Perhaps he could spend some time on the roof- It was afternoon, after all, and the sun was high in the clear sky. Though he had reluctantly agreed to Dante’s conditions of not leaving the house, it was unlikely that any humans would see him on the roof. Not only that, but it would provide a nice vantage point from which to keep watch over the house; With Dante gone, Nelo Angelo couldn’t help but feel a sense of apprehension, wondering if Mundus was preparing an ambush. Keeping watch might soothe his nerves somewhat.

Yes, that was what he would do, he decided with a nod. He would go up to the roof and guard the house while Dante was away, watching for his brother’s return and letting the sun dry out the last of the dampness from the shower. Taking his sword from where it rested near the couch, Nelo Angelo climbed the stairs once more, and reached for the ladder to the roof.

Just being outside seemed to be something of a relief in itself, and Nelo Angelo relaxed slightly as he reached the roof. It felt… Nice. The underworld was not a particularly sunny place, and Nelo Angelo was not fond of confined spaces, given his size; Yet here, he had endless blue sky above his head, and a gentle breeze running through his still-wet hair. Nelo Angelo sighed contentedly, and leaned against the small wall at the edge of the roof, gazing down at the street below. He sat there for some time, idly watching cars go by and-

Suddenly Nelo Angelo felt a pulse of demonic energy, and whirled around just in time to see a small portal open up behind him.

Within seconds, his sword was at the intruder’s throat.

“Hey, get off me!” Trish gasped. “What the hell do you think you’re-”

Her objection broke off into a strangled noise as Nelo Angelo growled and pressed his sword in further. Not one to go down without a fight, Trish retaliated with a growl of her own, and an electrified punch to the face; As Nelo Angelo flinched slightly, stunned, Trish took the opportunity to throw him to the side.

“What the hell are you attacking me for?! We’re on the same side, idiot!” Trish exclaimed as she staggered to her feet.

Nelo Angelo followed suit with a dismissive snort. Did she really believe him to be on her side? And she thought  _ he  _ was the foolish one? It seemed the youngest of Mundus’ creations had grown no less naive since last Nelo Angelo saw her. He raised his sword against her once again, but she quickly rolled out of the way, leaving the blade to collide with the roof with a heavy  _ crunch. _

“Cut it out! I’m not here to fight, I’m  _ trying  _ to talk to you!” Trish insisted, putting her hands up in surrender.

Nelo Angelo narrowed his eyes at this. She wanted to “talk”, did she? What could there possibly be to talk about? Was she not there simply to bring him back to Mundus? As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but find himself somewhat curious as to what Trish wanted to talk about. Perhaps he could humor her for a while. It wasn’t as if he had much better to do, anyway.

...And there was also the chance that if he continued to attack her, he would be met with reinforcements from Mundus’ troops.

Sighing, Nelo Angelo gave Trish a stern look, gestured to the rickety old patio chairs, held up a finger in signal for her to wait, and ducked back downstairs to retrieve his paper and pen.

Upon returning, he found Trish sitting awkwardly in the chair with her arms crossed, looking impatient and uncomfortable and for all the world like she didn’t particularly want to be there. She glanced up as he sat down across from her, and sighed.

“Nelo Angelo… How long do you plan to spend on this ridiculous little field trip of yours? I’m sure you know our master is furious that you and Dante left the island,” she told him, shaking her head. “I know Dante beat you once before, but that doesn’t mean you have to let him hold you prisoner forever. I can take you back with me. If you come back now, maybe there’s a chance you’ll be shown some mercy.”

How dare she act so presumptuously? She knew nothing if she thought any of what she had just said to be true. 

_ First of all,  _ he wrote while he glanced at her in loathing,  _ my true name is Vergil. Do not refer to me by the name Mundus gave to me when he twisted my body and mind into becoming his servant. Second, I’m not going back with you. I am remaining here with Dante out of my own will. Third, if you do not wish to die, I suggest that you leave immediately and do not come back. I would hate to accidentally demolish Dante’s home while I obliterate you.  _

Trish stared at the note for a moment, and then at Nelo Angelo, brow furrowed slightly. “I… don’t understand. Why would you want to run away? And to stay here, with a human, of all places?” she questioned, her expression of confusion deepening. “You know what happens to those who fail our master. If you do this, he’ll kill you. What’s gotten into you?”

Nelo Angelo scowled. She truly didn’t understand, did she? How pathetic. Nelo Angelo had thought Trish might sympathize with his goals, given that she knew just how thankless servitude to Mundus was; Nelo Angelo had seen other demons sneer at Trish in much the way they did towards him, mocking her ruthlessly for her human appearance. And yet, even after all that, it seemed she still was no different from the others. Typical. Trish was simply too ignorant, too simple-minded to grasp the idea that there was more to life than Mundus’ abuse.

...Then again, Nelo Angelo realized, Trish was hardly more than a nestling. She had never known anything outside of her role in Mundus’ court, and had not had her spirit broken as Nelo Angelo had, had not spent years longing for freedom the way Nelo Angelo had. And even he himself had only recently learned of the concept of kindness. It was only mere days ago that he’d called Lady out for lashing out at him over his lack of knowledge of things he was never taught; It would be hypocritical of him to do the same to Trish now.

He sighed as he picked up the pen to respond.  _ I am not surprised you do not understand, so I will explain it to you. Nothing has “gotten into me”. I am simply regaining the freedom Mundus stole from me many years ago.  _

_ The way Dante treats me is so very different from what I have experienced under Mundus. Dante treats me not as a tool, but as an equal. When I make mistakes, he does not harm me. When I show weakness, he does not mock me. When I wish to pursue my own interests, he does not stop me. It is difficult for me to explain the concepts I have learned, as they do not exist in the Underworld… I suppose Dante is… Gentle? He expects nothing from me. He does not hurt me. _

_ Surely you can understand. Serving Mundus is nothing but pain and monotony. Now that I have experienced what it is to live without that pain, how can I be expected to go back? Perhaps it is foolish of me, yes. But I can say with certainty that I would rather die, having experienced freedom, than live the rest of my life in suffering. _

Nelo Angelo waited patiently as Trish read his note, watching the expressions that crossed her face. Her confusion shifted to surprise, and then curiosity.

“I… Didn’t know that kind of life was possible,” she admitted, confirming Nelo Angelo’s suspicions. “I want to know more. What is it like? Why aren’t you afraid of Mundus? How did you-” Suddenly she gasped, and paled slightly. “I- I need to go. My master- Listen, I’ll be back,” she stammered, and before Nelo Angelo could object, she stepped hastily into a portal and vanished without a trace.

Nelo Angelo blinked, staring at the empty space where Trish had been as her words echoed in his mind. As he glanced at the note on the table, it slowly sunk in just what had just happened. Not only had he made the foolish mistake of talking to Trish, someone who reported directly to Mundus- While Dante wasn’t home, to make matters worse- He’d further gone on to reveal some of his most vulnerable thoughts to her, and now, apparently, she planned to return to speak to him again? Oh dear. What had he just gotten himself into..?

Not to mention he had demanded that she use his name. His  _ real _ name, given to him by his loving parents and not the alias forced upon him by Mundus. Vergil. Was he ready to call himself that yet? It was one thing for Dante or Lady to do so, as that was how they originally knew him and it was his true name anyway. But he had spent so much time thinking of himself as Nelo Angelo… Besides, could he really call himself Vergil while he still was trapped in the armor that bound him to the demon emperor? It almost felt wrong to do so. But then again, continuing to use Nelo Angelo would be like continuing to submit to Mundus, wouldn’t it? Would it not be a declaration of his intent to be truly free of him to call himself Vergil? 

...Perhaps he should speak to Dante about it first. As much as it shamed him to think about it, he was… nervous. Dante had been encouraging and helpful so far, so surely he would help with this as well. 

He (the elder son of Sparda, though that was more of a mouthful than he preferred in casual speech and thought) shook himself out of his looping thoughts, returning to his watch over the building. It would not do to be caught off guard if any more of Mundus’ minions decided to make an appearance. 

* * *

Dante felt a wave of relief as he rode up to the Devil May Cry building. Maybe he was being a little clingy, but he was really looking forward to seeing Vergil again, even though they had only been apart for a few hours. He parked his motorcycle and hopped off, trying to keep himself from skipping up the stairs. Maybe he was dumb for being so excited, but who could blame him? He was coming home, and Vergil would be there to greet him for the first time in forever, and-

There was no one in the main office area when he opened the door. Dante froze in the doorway, his mouth half-open and ready to announce “I’m home!”. Where was Vergil? Why was he not here, sitting on the couch or pacing around the room or something? He stretched out his senses and let out a sigh of relief when he felt his twin’s presence, but it only barely helped his anxiety. Was Vergil hiding? That didn’t make any sense, but then why else would he not be there to welcome Dante home? 

Dante heard a  _ CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP _ ! come from above and immediately called out, “Vergil? Is that you?” Fuck, he sounded way more worried than he expected. He hoped Vergil wouldn’t pick up on it and get concerned. 

Finally, Vergil emerged from the upper floor and stepped over the broken stairs to join him in the shop, looking as genuinely happy to see Dante as Dante was to see him, and Dante couldn’t contain himself. He ran at his brother and leapt at his brother, throwing his arms around his neck and crying, “Vergil! I’m home!”

Vergil froze as Dante came at him, probably having expected some kind of attack (whoops), but after a moment he relaxed and wrapped his arms around Dante in return, holding him close. Dante buried his face in his brother’s neck. 

“I’m home. I missed you.”

Vergil rested his cheek on top of Dante’s head, and Dante’s heart swelled. God, was this really happening? Every moment spent happily with his twin felt like a dream after years of loneliness and misery and grief. It was probably going to take a while for him to get used to this.

After several minutes, he finally let go and looked up at Vergil’s face, smiling. “Looks like you took your shower! Now that you’re all cleaned up you’re back to being almost as handsome as me!”

Vergil rolled his eyes and dropped him, but Dante landed nimbly on his feet, still grinning. “Did you find everything okay in there?”

His twin scrunched his nose up and walked over to the desk to write  _ It was very cramped, and you did not explain what the brick was for ahead of time, so I had a few problems initially. I would appreciate a more detailed explanation next time. But after I understood it, it was fine. _

“Oh, I’m sorry dude. I guess I wasn’t thinking about it enough… Do you want some help whenever you need to shower again or do you think you’ve got it down?”

Vergil shrugged.  _ Assistance would be appreciated. But there is something more pressing that I must tell you. Trish confronted me while I was keeping watch on the roof. She told me that Mundus is outraged at our disappearance from Mallet Island, which is what I expected anyway. She also seemed to think that you are holding me prisoner here, which is laughable. Formidable as you are, if it came down to it, I am certain I could overpower you and escape. Regardless, she said that I might still be offered mercy if I returned to Mundus with her, even though we both know that won’t happen. If I went back, Mundus would surely undo all of the progress we’ve made and erase my sense of self entirely instead of merely suppressing it. Trish failed to understand why I wish to stay, so I explained it to her to the best of my ability. She seemed intrigued but confused, and left quickly after, but said she would be back. We will need to be vigilant. _

Dante sighed. “Well, at least she’s not just skulking around anymore. Anything else we need to worry about?”

Vergil suddenly looked hesitant, and Dante laid a hand on his arm in concern. “Vergil? You okay?”

His brother tapped his unarmored fingers on the desk, obviously nervous. Dante didn’t want to push too hard, so instead he said, “Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right? If you’re comfortable saying it, go ahead.”

After fretting for a little longer, Vergil seemed to steel himself, finally writing  _ I am unsure how I should refer to myself. I know and remember my true name now, but it still feels… unfitting for me to use it. Though, at the same time, using the name Mundus forced upon me is like continuing to submit to him. It feels like referring to myself as Nelo Angelo is a step backward. _

_ I am not the man I once was, and even after the armor is gone and Mundus’ corruption is purged from me, I cannot return to being that man as my experiences have changed me immensely. But even so, I want to reclaim my name. In the meantime… I am unsure what to do. Please, I need your advice. _

Dante’s brow furrowed in confusion as he read the note. “I’m not sure I understand. Why do you think it’s unfitting for you to use your real name?”

_ Look at me, Dante. I am still mostly trapped in this armor. Besides that I…  _ Vergil’s hand shook as he wrote the next words.  _ I have disgraced us. Disgraced myself. Surrendering to Mundus was like betraying everything Mother and Father stood for and did for us. How can I call myself by the name they gave me after that? While I still bear this on my body, how can I call myself Vergil, as much as I wish to? _

Dante’s heart broke as he read Vergil’s note. To think that Vergil felt  _ guilty _ for having been hurt, that he blamed himself for everything he’d been through… To think that he felt like he didn’t even deserve to use his own name… Not for the first time, Dante found himself desperately wishing he could take it all back, and undo the pain that had been inflicted upon his brother. But the flow of time was not so kind, and now all he could do was try his damn hardest to help Vergil recover. 

“Oh, Vergil…” Dante sighed, reaching up a hand to gently caress Vergil’s hair. “You’re not being fair to yourself, man. You didn’t ‘betray’ anything. What happened to you isn’t your fault. The only one to blame is Mundus,” he reminded him. “Besides… Look at you now. You’re putting everything on the line to betray Mundus, even after everything he did to control you. I can’t think of anything that would make Mom and Dad more proud,” he added with a small smile. 

Vergil leaned into Dante’s touch, sighing gently, yet didn’t seem particularly reassured. He avoided Dante’s gaze as he rebutted,  _ I have only been able to do so because of your efforts to guide me. Before you found me, I was nothing more than a puppet. _

“Yeah, and before I found you, I was nothing but a good-for-nothing suicidal loser with a shitton of debt who spent most of my time sleeping in this garbage dump because I hated being awake,” Dante pointed out. “We’re twins, you idiot. We’re stronger together. That’s how it’s supposed to be. And besides…” He paused, shaking his head in dismay. “Names aren’t conditional, Vergil. Mom and Dad didn’t give you your name thinking, ‘Gee, I sure hope this kid doesn’t do anything uncool someday, cause then we’ll have to change his name!’, that’s just not how names work. Your name  _ is _ Vergil, and as long as you’re happy with that, it always will be,” he insisted. 

* * *

He wasn’t sure how to react to hearing that. Did Dante truly believe all that? Those simple statements, logical though they were, seemed so hard for him to accept. And yet… He had no reason to believe Dante would lie to him. Dante had sounded so agonizingly sincere, he’d felt his nonexistent heart jump slightly with hope.

It took him several moments to work up the conviction, but eventually, with a hand more steady than he expected, he picked up the pen and wrote  _ My name is Vergil. _ Vergil. He was Vergil.

Electricity crackled across his body as the armor’s punishment spell activated, and Vergil grit his teeth in pain in frustration. Of course. Of course something as small but significant as using his own name would be grounds for a renewal of his reeducation. But as he hunched over and gripped the desk in an attempt to remain on his feet, he realized that the pain was nowhere near as agonizing as it had once been, nor did he feel like he was going to lose consciousness. 

“Shit! Vergil!” Dante swore, his hands automatically reaching for Vergil before jerking back. Good, there was no need for Dante to be pulled in by the spell again, even if it was weaker. “I don’t want to just stand here doing nothing until it’s over…”

Vergil shook his head. Dante just being here with him, supporting him with his words and his actions, was more than enough. He would have to tell him as much when he could hold the pen again. 

As he rode out the pain, he took a shuddering breath and fortified his mind against the prying magic of the punishment spell. Vergil. Vergil. His name was Vergil. He mouthed it as he repeated internally. He would not allow it to be taken from him again. He was Vergil, son of Sparda and Eva, older brother of Dante. His place was at his brother’s side, not under Mundus’ heel. He gripped the desk harder as another wave of the spell washed over him, but held strong. Soon, he would be fully free of Mundus’ influence and shackles, and then…

The spell finally ran its course, and he sagged with relief, letting go of the desk and landing on his backside hard. He panted, tired and sore but not exhausted and in agony as he had been the previous times. That was certainly a sign of some sort of progress, but Vergil readily anticipated the day when he could have his thoughts without the fear of retribution from the armor. 

The smell of blood hit his nose suddenly and he looked up to see Dante holding out a glass of it towards him. 

“Vergil, you okay?”

Vergil gave a shaky nod, and accepted the glass gratefully, downing its contents in one gulp before placing it carefully down on the desk. He took a moment to collect himself, and then made his way over to the couch; Weakened though the spell may have been, it still left him rather drained, and he couldn’t help but want to rest. Dante followed not far behind him, sitting down next to him and leaning against his side.

Vergil sighed, and wrapped a tired arm around Dante’s shoulder.

“You know… I guess I can’t really speak for Mom and Dad, but… If it means anything to you, I’m really proud of you,” Dante said quietly. “I mean, I really thought you’d died all those years ago. And when I found you on Mallet Island, I… I honestly didn’t know if it’d even be possible to get you back to normal. It didn’t seem like you even knew who I was. But look how far you’ve come! And it’s only been, what, a week? Week and a half?” he pointed out. “Even after all the shit you’ve been through, you’re still fighting. And… It’s honestly really impressive that you have the strength to do that. That’s something to be proud of.”

It was, wasn’t it? Vergil wasn’t sure of the last time he had felt proud of himself, or even if he had ever been proud of himself at all. The few memories he had regained surely did not show him anything worth taking pride in, and his time as Nelo Angelo was only something to be ashamed of. 

Now he was finally doing something for himself, for the right reasons. And that felt… good. Relieving. Honorable. Satisfactory beyond reason. Perhaps he should do things for his own benefit (without collaterally damaging someone like his brother) more often, for the way he felt currently was similar to the warmth that spread through him when he gazed upon Dante’s smile. 

He was so content with himself, he might not have noticed his other gauntlet shattering if it hadn’t been for Dante’s gasp and the loud CRACK! as it broke apart and disintegrated, leaving a small pile of dust behind. Vergil silently held his newly freed hand in front of his face. Another piece of the armor, gone. 

Dante sat up straighter, grinning up at Vergil with wide eyes. “Bro! Look at that! That’s both gauntlets gone now!” he exclaimed in excitement. “This is great! Look at how far you’ve come, man! I’m so happy for you.”

Vergil smiled back, his satisfaction increased tenfold by the sight of Dante’s expression.

Curious, he turned his attention back towards his newly unarmored hand. Seeing the two side-by-side made it strikingly clear just how much progress he  _ had  _ made, too subtle for him to truly notice before; Though both hands still had an eerie, unsettling look to them, his right hand was ever so slightly paler, more gaunt, rough and uncared for. By contrast, his left was freshly cleaned, and- thanks to Dante’s improvised medical treatment on the boil of corruption on his wrist- was slowly regaining its own color, the vile blue veins gradually growing less prominent. It also still bore the chipped, shimmering remnants of Lady’s art.

“Hmm… We’ll have to fix up your nail polish later,” Dante echoed Vergil’s thoughts as he leaned over his shoulder to look. “Can’t have you walking around lopsided, after all!”

Vergil gave a light snort at Dante’s terrible joke; Dante’s embarrassingly poor attempts at humor were far more amusing than any of his actual jokes. Rather than telling Dante as much, however, Vergil instead turned his attention towards more important things, taking Dante’s hand in his newly exposed one.

To think he had gone so long without experiencing the gentle warmth of a kind touch… He would not allow this freedom to be taken from him again. Never.

After a nice few minutes of the two of them basking in each others’ happiness, Dante sat up with a jolt. “Shit! I forgot I gotta meet Morrison at Fredi’s!”

Vergil frowned slightly as Dante stood up, irritated by the sudden interruption to their quiet moment of affection. Dante seemed similarly reluctant, giving Vergil an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vergil, but the money’s not just gonna materialize on the desk if I think about it hard enough. I need to go talk to Morrison so I can actually, you know, get paid,” he explained. “I’ll bring you back a snack or something, how’s that?”

Vergil huffed, still not particularly pleased with the thought of Dante leaving again so soon… But Dante did have a point, he supposed. Sighing, he gave a reluctant nod.

“Alright, see ya in a little while, then,” Dante proclaimed, bending over to give Vergil a quick hug (which was returned warmly). “Try not to have any more identity crises while I’m out, yeah?”

Vergil gave an irritated snort, but Dante simply laughed as he headed for the door. A moment later, he was gone, leaving the shop quiet and dull in the absence of his warm, carefree aura.

With a sigh, Vergil stood up and made his way towards the bookcase, hoping but not particularly expecting to find a suitable book to distract him until Dante returned.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Dante hopped back up the stairs to Devil May Cry for the second time that day, this time with a nice wad of cash in one jacket pocket, a bag of fries in the other, and a “Sexy Motorcycles Monthly” calendar tucked under his arm. He was pleased to see that the sign above the door was lit back up again and even more pleased to enter the shop to see Vergil peacefully napping on the couch, a book laid over his face. God, it felt good to casually come home to see his twin there. Though Vergil probably wouldn’t appreciate what Dante was about to tell him next…

He gently laid a hand on Vergil’s shoulder, whispering, “Hey bro, I’m back. You sleepin’ on the job?”

Vergil jerked awake with a grunt, the book slipping from his face and falling into his lap. He glanced around warily before blinking and looking up at Dante, narrowing his eyes at the implication that he was slacking off. 

“Aw, don’t be mad. I brought you fries!” Dante pulled the bag out of his jacket and handed it to his brother, who opened it and gazed inside skeptically. “Don’t worry, they’re like, almost as good as pizza. Actually, I think pizza fries are a thing somewhere… We should try them sometime.” 

He shifted from side to side as Vergil bit one in half, chewing and swallowing before looking up at Dante with an expression that said ‘Not bad’ before shoving a few more into his mouth.

“Oh good, glad you like ‘em.” Dante moved over to the desk, putting the wad of cash and calendar down. “So uh, me and Morrison talked, and we had to kind of come to a compromise about how I’m gonna get future jobs…”

Vergil nodded and continued to eat his fries. Okay. Time for the hard part. Hopefully he wouldn’t take it too badly…

“So given that you’re gonna be here with me from now on… Uh. I’m gonna have to have people only come into the shop by appointment as much as possible. But during those times, I’m going to have to have you stay upstairs, since not everyone will be as… understanding… as Morrison. Okay?” He winced as Vergil’s face clouded in anger and he reached for his pen and paper. 

_ Why must I hide away in my own home? If the humans are coming to you, certainly they are already aware that demons exist. What would my presence do besides assure them that they are not dreaming and they require your services? _

Dante sighed. “Yeah, you’ve got a good point. But if Morrison and Lady’s reactions to you are any example, regular ass people who barely know anything about demons will freak out way worse. I wish it wasn’t like this, Vergil, I really do. But… just for now at least, please understand?”

Vergil stared at him for several moments, and the betrayal in his eyes made Dante’s heart hurt.  _ Very well.  _

“Vergil…” He instinctively crossed over to the couch and perched on it so that he could wrap his arms around Vergil’s shoulders. “I don’t like it either. I don’t want you to have to hide. I don’t want to have to worry about people trying to hurt you if they see you.” Dante rested his forehead against his brother’s. Vergil did not hug him back. “I’m sorry.”

When Dante finally pulled away, his heart ached at the disappointment and hurt on Vergil’s face. His twin wrote  _ Even as I agree to this, I must express my immense dissatisfaction with this. Am I something to be ashamed of? Something that must be shoved to the side to save face in front of the humans?  _

“What? No way!” Dante exclaimed, looking up at his twin in alarm before sighing in frustration and rubbing a hand over his face. “Vergil, I need you to understand something. I’m not asking you to go upstairs because I’m ashamed of you. You see, back when I first met Lady, she shot me in the head because I pissed her off. And then when she realized I wasn’t human because I was still alive, she shot me again. It fuckin’ hurt, but obviously it didn’t kill me.” 

Vergil growled, obviously not liking that Lady had shot his little brother, but Dante held up a hand to calm him down. “Hey, don’t get mad at her, this was years ago now, back at the Temen-ni-gru. It’s water under the bridge. But what I’m trying to get at is, if regular humans knew that the guy they were hiring to kill demons was part demon himself, they’d just try to get me killed too. I have to hide who I am from almost everyone, and it’s not because I’m ashamed of being Sparda’s kid.” Best to just leave out the years of self-loathing and loneliness he’d suffered due to not really belonging anywhere. “I do it to protect myself, both from overzealous humans and demons who are out for Dad’s blood, and by extension, ours. Vergil, I’m not ashamed of you. I just want to keep you safe from anyone like that, who would try and kill you as soon as look at you.”

Vergil gave him a long, hard look, as if he was trying to detect any hint of deception on Dante’s face or in his words. That hurt too. That Vergil would think Dante was lying to him…

_ You know I can readily defend myself.  _

“I know, Vergil. But I don’t want you to have to. Please understand? It’ll only be a little while at a time, and I’ll make sure the clients are in and out without dragging their feet.”

Vergil sighed.  _ I have already agreed to your conditions. Yet I do not understand why you prioritize the humans in this way, especially when they are so cruel to you. If you do not wish to hide who and what you are, then why do so? _

“Well, to be honest, I just don’t have any other way of making money. I mean, I’ve tried some other jobs over the years, but believe it or not they took even more working with humans- So needless to say they didn’t usually end well. Guess I give off bad vibes to humans, or something.” Dante sighed and gave a small shrug, arms crossed. “And like I said, pretty much everything costs money. Food costs money, electricity costs money, heat in the winter costs money, hell, even the water costs money. And sure, I guess I could live without it, could go live in a cave somewhere, but- I mean, I think we can both agree that’d kinda suck, right?” he pointed out. “Pizza doesn’t occur naturally in the wild.”

Vergil took a moment to process Dante’s explanation, lips pursed as he considered it. He gave a small huff of irritation as he picked up the pen. 

_ I suppose I can understand this situation, although I detest that it must be this way. I know you will chide me for this, but as far as I’m concerned humanity’s only redeeming traits are our mother and pizza.  _

“Yeah, I mean… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel that way myself sometimes,” Dante muttered, glancing away awkwardly. “But anyway, uh… I hope this helps you, um, understand a bit better? I need you to understand that I’m not doing this to be mean to you, and I’m not- I don’t think badly of you, or anything like that,” he reiterated. “I’m doing what I have to to look after us both, and yeah, it fucking sucks and I wish it didn’t have to be this way, I hate it too, but… At the end of the day, this is the world we live in. I’m sorry. Please believe me, Vergil.”

As Vergil stared at Dante, he found himself clenching his fist tight with apprehension, a part of him wondering if this was going to be the end of their newly forged bond. After a moment, though, Vergil’s gaze softened, and he gave a small nod; Dante let out a sigh of relief, and reached for Vergil’s hand, taking it gently in his own.

“I love you, Vergil. Please, please remember that. It’s- It’s really tough sometimes, living in a world where you don’t fit in, and I have to make a lot of hard choices and do a lot of stuff I don’t want to do, but I need you to know that I would never willingly hurt you. Ever.”

Dante must have sounded more pitiful than he thought, because Vergil nodded once again and leaned against Dante gently, giving a quiet hum of assurance. The sound was oddly akin to a cat purring, Dante noticed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. It was cute, but since he knew Vergil would dislike being called that, he didn’t mention it out loud.

Stretching, Dante sighed and cuddled up to his twin. “Alright, well, I’m beat. If you need me I’m gonna be napping for however long I feel like. Enjoy the rest of your fries, bro.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


End file.
